


till we touch the sun

by ssolaris



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Chaos Emeralds, F/M, Freedom Fighters, Gen, M/M, Master Emerald, Sonic Forces, War, i have also poured my heart and soul into it tho and it is my baby, phantom ruby is big scary, sonic forces rewrite, this fic is edgy! beware
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 30,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28806666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssolaris/pseuds/ssolaris
Summary: He never thought everything could fall apart quite like this.
Relationships: Amy Rose/Knuckles the Echidna, Avatar | Custom Hero (Sonic Forces) & Miles "Tails" Prower, Avatar | Custom Hero (Sonic Forces)/Infinite (Sonic the Hedgehog), Gadget the Wolf & Miles "Tails" Prower - Relationship, Gadget the Wolf/Infinite, Miles "Tails" Prower & Sonic the Hedgehog, Shadow the Hedgehog/Sonic the Hedgehog
Comments: 1
Kudos: 30





	1. desolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there :)
> 
> so if you follow me on ffnet (@ king.needlemouse) you may know that i have been working on this fic for the past 3 years and counting. i usually keep my sonic stuff exclusively on ffnet bc that's where the fandom seems to have mostly resided in the past, but i figured i would start posting here as well since the audience seems to be growing.
> 
> if you like this fic and you're impatient, the first 20 chapters are already posted on ffnet and you're welcome to read them there. i only plan on another 5 chapters or so before it's complete. however! i will be posting weekly on this ao3 version as well, so if u prefer ao3 and some pacing, there's that.
> 
> also keep in mind that i have no desire to go back and re-edit these chapters, so i'm posting them as is. im well aware that the writing in these earlier chapters is not as good as my current writing. its from like 2018. but if you think the plot is interesting then i implore you to stick around bc ive been working on this thing for a while and im much prouder of more recent chapters. if anything, you can watch my writing slowly improve over the course of this fic haha
> 
> this a/n is getting long sdkfhlj. umm only thing i have left to say is, mind the tags. there will be a couple character deaths, it can get kinda violent/bloody, there is swearing. it's sonic forces but Edgy ft. Better Writing than sega. have fun :)

**I.**

_desolation (desəˈlāSH(ə)n)_

_[noun]_

_a state of complete emptiness or destruction._

* * *

As the sun settled down against the horizon, a milky orange that swirled out into the pale sky like watercolors on a canvas, the small crowd of teenagers began to calm as well. The day seemed to almost sigh in relief as the moon started to reveal itself, from behind the thick curtain of clouds clinging to the cerulean skies.

One hedgehog, his fur ruffled and coarse from going months on end without proper hygiene, huffed tiredly as he leaned against a tree. His golden eyes scanned the field, all his friends still chattering away with each other, some nibbling on the last remnants of birthday cake, some laying in the plush grass as they tried to relax after the adventure they quite literally just finished up with.

As another hedgehog, the birthday boy himself, conversed with an echidna, he began to lock eyes with the other isolated by the tree. Soon the newly-aged eighteen-year-old was able to cut off the chat, carding fingers through his messy blue quills as he approached his friend.

“You headin’ home, soon?” Sonic wondered, crossing his arms and eyeing his friend a tad despondently.

The ivory male shrugged, inhaling deeply through his nose. His chest fluttered a bit at how cool and fresh the air felt as it rushed through his nostrils, and he smiled warmly at the way the grass swayed, painted a verdant hue. It was a nice change of pace from the atmosphere he was more adjusted to, the one that always seemed to be filled with smog and flames and destruction.

“Probably should,” the psychic replied, unable to stifle the small frown that flashed across his features.

The blue blur narrowed his eyes, glancing down at his shoes. “Uh, y’know, you could always stay just a little while longer. We’ve always got some extra room back at the workshop.”

Silver smiled halfheartedly. “I appreciate the offer, really, and I wish I could.” The time-traveler promptly sighed, his gaze a little more empty, “… But I don’t have much of a choice. Someone’s gotta make sure our future doesn’t go to hell, right?”

Sonic puffed out his cheeks in frustration. “It’s just… It’s not fair. I mean, Chaos, you’re a year younger than me! It’s too much to put on your shoulders. I just wish…”

“I know. Me too.”

The speedster eyed the other for a moment, unsure what to say or whether to do anything. Eventually he opted for an easy smile, and clamped a strong hand on an eggshell shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you, bud.”

“I imagine it won’t be too long before we cross paths again. The future always seems to get fucked up, between all the demons and mad scientists running around,” the psychic grinned.

Sonic managed a snort at that, before jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. “Gonna say goodbye to the others?”

“Nah,” Silver shook his head, “I’m not too good at those. Too emotional for me. Heck, I almost cried a couple hours ago when your past self had to leave.”

Emerald eyes shimmered with some hazy concoction of mirth and exhaustion. “Heh, yeah, one hell of a birthday, huh? Alright, then. I’ll see you, Silv.”

“See you.”

The blue blur withdrew a Chaos Emerald from his quills, summoning a spark of energy from it. A small spot in the middle of the air, a few feet away, seemed to warp and twist like raw heat over a smoldering fire, before combusting in a magnificent burst of light. A portal, composed of pure energy that crackled through the air, swelled up before the hedgehogs with an odd gravitation to it. Whatever waited on the other side was too foggy to distinguish.

Silver flashed one last smile at his friend, flicked his wrist in a small wave, and hopped through the portal. It closed behind him, crumbling into itself before disappearing altogether. The space where it once was, was completely restored, as though it were never there.

* * *

As the time-traveling hero felt his feet touch solid ground, and he was met with heat pressing into his fur and a deathly silence hissing around him, he just _knew._

Something was wrong.

Hazel eyes snapped open, analyzing and calculating at a million miles a minute, scanning his surroundings and absorbing all he saw. Looking for small details that could help. Searching for familiar faces that could aid him.

Before him lay a wasteland, a ghost town. He looked to be in some ancient form of Empire City, the pavement torn up and caved in with multiple craters, and skyscrapers on the brink of collapsing. The streets were deserted, dotted with abandoned vehicles that rusted with age, windows and doors broken in all the vacant, dark buildings. The city was quite a marvel, back in Sonic’s time, but now it held a much darker essence to it. The skyscrapers loomed over him like beasts waiting to pounce, the atmosphere was clogged with a thick smoke, and—perhaps most unnerving—there was an equally off-putting and alluring source of pure negative Chaos energy, not too far away.

Silver wandered the streets uneasily, his hands surrounded in an unending teal aura, his eyes vigilant. He’d encountered multiple apocalyptic scenarios in the past, but normally there was an apparent enemy always within arm’s reach, or at least innocent civilians in danger he could help.

But this city looked like it had been sucked dry of any life it had.

As he continued onward, the strange negative energy in the distance grew to be a heavier presence around him, and he could already feel it hindering his own powers. Strangely enough, the city also looked to be in less wreckage as he approached the source.

Soon enough he rounded a corner to meet a road of eerily identical buildings, all made of cement, holding perfect symmetry in dimensions and aesthetics, lining one large street. It still appeared abandoned by actual life, but this time a few vaguely familiar robots patrolled the sidewalks.

_(Should’ve known.)_

And he almost shouted out an exclamation, or chucked a deserted car at one, or did just about anything to provoke them, when he stopped. Piercing speakers, that seemed to be placed around the entire city, crackled and squealed to life, as someone began to talk.

The voice was automated and mechanical (as expected), and blared out, _“Time is: 1500. Commerce and speaking is now permitted for the following sixty minutes.”_

Silver watched in horror as nearly a hundred people filed out of the odd buildings, either smothered in injuries, sunken with exhaustion, dizzy with sickness, or some combination of all three. Most of them stumbled around aimlessly, crisscrossing through the thick crowd before running into another Mobian they seemed to recognize. They’d all hug, or cry into each other’s arms, or kiss, or trade supplies, or whisper ambiguous things to each other. Occasionally, someone seemed to say something or do something the robots didn’t like, and they’d crumble to the ground in agony as a shock collar around their neck would send volts across their body.

Sensing the negative energy now dangerously close by, Silver decided this would be his best chance to reach it and figure out what the hell was going on.

He weaved through the crowd, receiving both dirty and horrified looks. Quite irritatingly, many began to part way for him, which only drew more attention to him.

A cold hand grabbed at his arm, yanking him back. He turned to face the cold eyes of a slightly rusty Egg Pawn. “Citizen, you are not wearing your collar. We will take you to the detention center immediately. Resistance will result in your arrest.”

And suddenly there were multiple hands all grabbing at him, several robots chanting that phrase, blaring it into his ears. Silver whipped his head around frantically, the people nearby backing up in fear, more and more droids surrounding him. He couldn’t see anything but those unwavering red eyes, millions of them, they were all grabbing at him, they were all…

“ _Stop!_ ”

An aqua light swallowed the swarm of robots instantaneously, and they all froze in their hectic motions to grab him. The hedgehog screamed out in anguish, throwing his arms out to the side, and immediately all the bots went flying in every which way, crashing into other people, the roads, and the concrete walls of the buildings.

For a moment, everything was deathly silent again. All the people around him looked on with huge, mortified eyes, completely stopped in whatever business they’d been tending to moments earlier.

Promptly, chaos erupted. Everybody scrambled back towards the buildings, pushing and shoving to get back inside, screaming out that he was a maniac, that they swore they had nothing to do with it, and that they just didn’t want to face _him_ (whatever that meant) _._ The hazy skies became flooded with red light as sirens screeched at him. Silver only hesitated a moment before breaking out into a run.

Silver focused just on reaching the negative source of energy, just focused on his breath, and the sinking feeling in his chest. The army of metal feet stampeding behind him, the bullets whizzing past his head, the wave after wave of droids he shoved out of the way, did nothing to deter him.

He continued weaving around corners, launching himself over barricades of robots that blocked the roads, taking shortcuts through abandoned convenience stores. His heart slammed against the walls of his chest furiously, his face hot and his breaths heavy as he tore down the streets of Empire City.

And finally, the rows of cement buildings gave way to a large, cleared out area that looked to be a park once—roughly two acres of land. However, all of the ground was cleared out for a pure, concrete courtyard to be lain out. Several watchtowers dotted the perimeter, large troops of more Egg Pawns marching about, patrolling or delivering packages. In the center of it all was a giant hemisphere-shaped building, with obsidian walls and tinted windows. Silver almost felt a little nauseas from the sheer negative Chaos energy he could sense, leaking out of the walls of the structure like a toxin.

The hedgehog shot a fleeting look over his shoulder, his heart seizing at the sight of the swarm of bots all charging straight for him, still droning that damn mantra and firing their weapons.

And with the easy decision to run away from _that_ hellish sight, Silver whipped back around, making a mad dash towards the weird building because _what else did have to lose, anyway?_

By the time he reached the doors, they were already enveloped in blue light, and he was already thrusting his palms forward to send them flying off their hinges. His lungs burned with every breath, the atmosphere doused in venom and flames that ruthlessly tore through his respiratory system as he gasped for air.

When he entered the facility, though, he felt a thousand times worse. It was like the negative energy was corporeal, and it was crawling up his arms and legs, slithering in through his pores like a million needles stabbing into his skin. His vision became spotty, and as he ran through the endless maze of corridors, it felt significantly more draining to call upon his psychokinesis to throw the doors out of his way.

His entire body was practically _screaming_ at him to get away from the horrible energy that sapped at all his strength, but some stupid, possibly suicidal voice in the back of his head urged him onward, murmured to him that he had to keep going, he had to save the world.

Silver pushed past one last set of doors, these feeling particularly more stubborn than the others, and fell to the ground in a wheezing heap, fur clinging to his skin from sweat, stomach lurching in his gut, limbs trembling with fatigue. For a moment, save for his raucous gasps for air, there was a beat of silence to revel in.

Then a sharp laugh rumbled through the room, and ghostly chills trickled down his spine.

“This is the pest that’s been giving you all so much trouble?” wondered a voice, that was strangely warped and muffled. It sounded vaguely amused. “… I must say, I’m a tad underwhelmed. I was hoping for more of a challenge; it’s been quite boring, lately.”

Golden eyes, weary and drained, peered up at the figure that stalked toward him like a lion upon a dying gazelle.

His vision was just barely functioning, but he made out a dark, tall figure, wearing a jagged mask that glimmered silver in the light. Something bright red popped out of his chest, projecting a strange carmine aura around it.

The stranger chuckled darkly, cocking his head in sick pleasure. “Worn out already, boy? Maybe I’ll give you a small burst of energy, hm?” The figure knelt down beside the fallen hedgehog, nudging his chin, “The Pawns warned me you could move things without even touching them. That sounds like quite the entertaining spar.”

Silver could do nothing but glare disdainfully, though the pain surging through his body probably made it look more like a pathetic pout. It was like he could feel every, tiny nerve and tendon and ligament in him being ripped to _shreds_ all at once.

An icy palm pressed into his sweaty chest, and suddenly a blast of refreshing energy shot into his ribcage, hastily rippling out across his body. The time-traveler’s vision cleared up instantly, and while still worn out, he felt like he had the strength to stand again.

Without hesitation, without even a rational thought, Silver narrowed his eyes sharply at his foe. The figure gasped as an aqua glow surrounded him, and with a mere flick of his fingers, he was fired across the room, crashing into the opposite wall many yards away and leaving a crater in his wake.

It was then that the ivory teenager took a moment to assess his surroundings, finally able to think more coherently and feel his powers dance beneath his fingertips. The chamber seemed decently sized, a few extra Egg Pawns stationed around the perimeter. But what quickly caught his eye was the centerpiece of the room.

It looked like a literal black hole, surrounded in a bubble of red mist. As though it were sentient, the black hole seemed to wriggle around in its prison, like it was trying to break free, and devour anything in its path—and Silver had no doubt that it would if the mist were to disappear. It wasn’t hard to also deduce that the strange void was the source of the negative energy. He could feel it licking rapaciously at him, clawing at him, slowly sucking away at the small burst of vigor the stranger had granted him.

Back across the room, the figure—who was perhaps a dog of sorts?—stumbled forwards, groaning to himself. “ _Dammit…_ ”

Silver shakily rose up to his feet, still panting, but able to maintain his composure better.

“Look, man,” the hedgehog grunted, “I dunno what the hell is going on, but I’m putting a stop to it. You work for Eggman, don’t you?”

The canine froze, then, the red object in his chest pulsing with light. He promptly doubled over with laughter. “You think I serve that buffoon? He is long gone, my friend, and the world now bows to _me._ Soon, you will too.”

“I just want answers,” Silver said, keeping his voice steady. “Like what that weird ass black hole is, for starters?”

“What I want to know is how you _don’t_ know what it is,” the other leered, limping forwards, “That _black hole_ is all the leverage I need against you.”

The hero frowned. “Well I’m new around here. Mind filling me in?”

A bitter laugh erupted from the darker mobian. “How much of a fool do you take me for, boy?” He jerked his head off to the right, as though addressing someone else out of sight. “Come here, Blue. Dispose of this _pest_ for me, will you? I’m getting bored of this small talk.”

_Blue?_

Silver snarled, ignoring the way his limbs continued to quiver against his will. “What, give up fighting me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” the canine said, though it was clear he was somewhat weakened, “I just like using my pet. It’s fun to watch him tear apart fools like yourself.”

There was a loud crumble that resonated through the chamber, then, as a figure landed against the ground from somewhere above. A cloud of dust twirled around the newcomer, masking all but a vague silhouette of a hedgehog, and yet another strange, red gemstone jutting from his chest.

As the hedgehog emerged from the shadows, his eyes were revealed to match the ominous glow of the stone lodged in his chest, enchanted in a carmine haze. His fur was a pallor blue, washed out like a bleached seashell. His face lacked any emotion, and, oh, _fuck,_ if he wasn’t standing up, Silver would have thought him a corpse.

The odor of rotting flesh wafted through the room, accompanied with disgustingly pale flesh that was peeled and torn off the Mobian. He sported multiple injuries, all of them decayed and crusty across his lithe form. His fur was patchy and thin. His right arm was replaced by a violet wine prosthetic, forged of a titanium that looked like it was maybe once shone marvelously, but was now rusted, and had various torn wires and fissures running along its surface.

And despite how revolting and zombie-like the hedgehog appeared, there was an unmistakable _look_ to him, a look that made Silver sway and his heart plummet.

“ _Sonic?_ ”

The canine—the damned coward—off on the other side of the room, stiffened. “How do you…? That’s not— _Dammit,_ just kill him already.”

Looking as though he were completely entranced, by the void or the other guy or that freaky gem in his chest, Sonic narrowed his eyes at the psychic, and lunged forward.

Silver had fought the blue blur many times before, both on murderous and friendly terms, and this was… Certainly different. He clearly wasn’t in his right mind. The speedster’s movements were more sluggish, he acted more like a wild animal, and he even used his new, robotic arm occasionally to fire a small missile the other hedgehog’s way.

For a while, the time-traveler assumed a defensive position, jumping and rolling out of the way of the various attacks. He needed to figure out a plan. He needed to figure out _what on Mobius_ was happening.

Just barely dodging another spindash, Silver threw his hands up in the air. The pale blue hedgehog bared a feral snarl, stalking forward.

“Look, hey, Sonic?! Calm down, man. I dunno what happened to you, _but—!_ ”

A blue blur whipped just past his head, as the ivory hedgehog leapt over to the side, and collided with the floor.

“That’s right, my little soldier,” the stranger drawled out from the corner, chuckling at the fight. “I want you to destroy him. Throw him into the Null. Let him suffer for an eternity.”

The look in Sonic’s eyes shifted slightly, and while he still continued to lunge for the psychic, it was clear he had a different purpose. And while Silver wasn’t quite sure what the _‘Null’_ was, if the way he was being slowly pushed back towards the odd portal thing was any clue, he’d guess that was it.

Silver continued to try and reason. “Sonic! Please! I dunno if you can hear me or not, but I’m your friend! It’s _me,_ Silver? C’mon, snap out of it!”

He needed a new plan. While he could have maybe stood a chance against a slightly slower Sonic any other place, this time he was confined in a room, with practically no energy left in him to keep him standing, and no projectiles to use his psychokinesis on. He was pretty fucking screwed, to say the least.

Lost in his thoughts, scrambling for even the essence of a good idea to get himself out of this mess, Silver gasped in shock when the blue blur clenched onto both of his arms, pushing him back against the portal. He could feel it, could feel the cold tendrils of negative energy, teasing the back of his head, mere inches away from him. He tried to use his powers, to push Sonic away, but at this point he couldn’t even hold himself up. His vision was already cloudy and distant again.

It felt painful to even strain his vocal chords anymore. “… _Sonic-!_ Please…”

The stranger appeared beside them, arms crossed, cackling from behind his jagged mask. “You imbecile! He is no longer Sonic. He has not been Sonic for the last one hundred years. He is nothing more than my puppet.”

“ _No!_ ”

“Give up, boy!” his foe roared, voice thundering around the room, “I am _Infinite._ I can never lose. And now you will suffer for the rest of your pitiful life, wishing you had never crossed me. You will suffer for an eternity in _Null Space!_ ”

Silver watched in a muted horror as Sonic shoved him back into the black hole, the Null Space, and his surroundings instantly faded into complete darkness.

Everything suddenly went staggeringly cold. He could feel the rawness of Chaos energy coursing throughout his body, sending chills across his form. He struggled to breathe for a moment, blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness and choking on the sudden drop in oxygen levels. There was barely any at all in the air anymore, he knew, yet the Chaos energy kept him invigorated and his heart pumping.

The psychic held a tentative hand to his face, marveling at the intense glow of the rune on his glove that was now pulsating with energy. Leaning his head back, Silver exhaled deeply, shuddering as tingles raced across his body and he felt himself sink deeper into the raw power all around him.

He could let it consume him. It’d be so easy. He could feel it throbbing against his skin, clawing at him, begging him to give in and let it take him, swallow him whole. It whined pitifully for him, because it knew he was full of Chaos energy, and he knew how hungry the Null must be.

_It’d be so easy. It’d be so easy. It’d be so—_

Wait.

Silver gasped, awoken from his strange trance by a sensation akin to ice water getting dumped over his body, his eyes snapping open. He felt the dark energy withdraw in that moment, wary and surprised, calculating.

He had to—no, fuck. He needed to _do_ something. He had to go back, he had to save everyone, he had to stop this from happening (whatever _this_ even was).

The darkness was gnawing at him now, growing restless, and he just—he needed to get _out._ He couldn’t let himself become overcome by this. He had an entire world relying on him.

And _yet._ How. _How_ was he—? He couldn’t—he couldn’t _breathe,_ he had to get out, he— the Chaos—

The _Chaos._

Silver could feel the pressure on his ribcage, his blood thickening, his vision fleeting, and he pushed past all of it. He clawed into the deepest depths of himself, pulled out any small pieces of positive energy left in his system, despite the way the Null was devouring his existence.

_(He just needed to go back to the time. The time where he could stop all of this from happening. If he could go back, then he could save everyone. He just, he just needed enough energy to—)_

Something hot spread across his chest, devoured his entire form, and the darkness was consumed by a burning white light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wahoo next update will be in a week, as will all other future updates until it's caught up to where i'm at in the writing process, which is presently chapter 20.
> 
> also sorry if time travel is confusing, i promise this is the only chapter that really features it, everything else will take place in one consistent timeline. silver just jumped WAY too far ahead in the future in this chap, but the rest of the fic will take place a few years after sonic generations, so everyone is in their late teens / early 20s and tails is about 14-15


	2. shattered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> back w the weekly updates till this is caught up to the ffnet version!
> 
> to clarify again, the rest of this fic takes place in a singular timeline, a couple years after generations. everyone's between like 18-25 except little 14-15 y/o tails :) and other children characters lol
> 
> uhhhhh i apologize once more for any shitty writing this is still kinda old haha enjoy

**II.**

_shattered (SHadərd)_

_[adjective]_

_broken into many pieces._

_(of something abstract) damaged or destroyed._

* * *

“Can anyone read me?”

The only response was the crackled hiss of the walkie-talkie.

“Fuck, come on guys. I can’t—I need you here, we need you.”

Silence pervaded the room above her helpless murmurs into the communicator. It was painful.

“… Please. Say anything.”

Nothing.

“I—” Her fists clenched tighter around the device, surely turning her knuckles white beneath her satin gloves. She ground her teeth together, scrunching her eyes closed against the hot, frustrated tears trying to burst through. With an exasperated sob, she chucked the walkie-talkie across the room, watching it collide into the wall and fall to the ground in pieces. “ _Fuck._ ” She drew her hands to her head, clawing her fingers into her scalp and shaking her head. “Fuck fuck _fuck—_ ”

“Woah, uh, Rouge?” A voice cut through the air, sturdy and gravelly and carrying a signature Jersey twang. A large hand clasped—surprisingly—gently on her shoulder, stilling her tremors just slightly. The bat wiped hastily at her face, and stiffened at the touch. “You alright?”

The agent hissed through her teeth. “ _Fine,_ ” she gritted out, her teal eyes settling forlornly on the shattered communicator. She roughly shook the hand from her shoulder, crossing her arms and turning slightly to face the towering male.

The crocodile’s gaze softened upon getting a better look at her features. Her makeup was all smeared and clumpy and damp, her skin was unnaturally pale, and her face was sunken with exhaustion (although it was always like that—she hardly ever got sleep nowadays).

“You sure don’t look _‘fine’_ to me,” Vector replied, placing his hands on his hips. He sighed wearily. He hadn’t exactly gotten much sleep, lately, either. “Mind explainin’ why exactly the walkie-talkie is on the other side of the room in pieces?”

“They—” Rouge squeaked, her voice breaking as another miserable sob tried to slip out. She steeled herself, taking a deep breath and balling up her fists extra tight. This was stupid. She was just being stupid. _Stop being a baby._ “… I haven’t heard anything from Knuckles and Amy since last night. It’s dead silent on their end.”

Vector sighed. “That could be—”

“They were supposed to check in over an hour ago!” she snapped, shaking slightly more. “They could be captured right now, maybe they were ambushed in their sleep, or they got chased by something, or, or-!”

Two hands eased onto her shoulders, grounding her. “ _Chaos,_ Rouge, just—take a deep breath, alright? I’m sure they’re fine. Those two are more than capable of handling themselves.”

Rouge pulled her lips into a thin line. Her eyes were simmering with something wild and hot. “We thought Sonic and Tails could handle themselves, didn’t we?”

And, okay, ouch. The croc reeled back, a bit of the sympathy in his gaze becoming curtained by an equally icy stare.

“We’ll find them.”

A wet, hysterical laugh spilled out of her throat. “What, their _corpses?_ ”

“What the _hell,_ Rouge?” Vector snarled, “Chaos, I thought you were Shadow’s friend, I thought—I thought _you’ve_ been the one telling us all it’ll be alright. Tellin’ _Shadow_ we’ll find them.”

Her twisted smile fell. “Well, shit, sorry for not trying to convince everyone that everything’s just sunshine and rainbows. Sorry for being a little _realistic._ ”

The reptile huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose and lowering his tone. “C’mon, Rouge, that’s not—”

“Then what the hell do you want from me?” she sobbed, throwing her hands out to her sides and fighting valiantly against more tears. “I’m trying, Vec, I’m fucking _trying._ But Shadow’s hardly around anymore and I can still hear Vanilla crying herself to sleep and Sonic and Tails are good as dead and now _Knuckles and Amy_ are— _are…_ ”

The agent collapsed, falling into the larger male and weeping into his chest. Vector frowned uneasily, patting her back and allowing her to lean into him. For a while they just stood there, in each other’s arms, listening to their own breaths.

“Y’know, he’s no mechanic, but I think Espio made a little progress on Omega. Wanna go see?” the detective mumbled, rubbing easy circles into her back.

She sniffled, and pushed off of him, giving a blasé shrug like she hadn’t just been crying. “… Sure.”

* * *

It was almost kind of beautiful.

The way the landscape looked so unblemished, so pristine. It was a perfect blanket of thick snow sprawled out for miles across the flatlands, and beyond the violent blizzard, he could almost make out clear blue skies.

He could also make out the indistinct outlines of a settlement, perhaps a mile off, slightly skewed to the left. A hazy pillar of smoke rose from the encampment before getting lost in the downpour of snowflakes and hail. The thought of curling up beside a fire right now was beyond tempting, and he found himself quickening his pace despite the fatigue that dragged down his bones.

And there was this distant voice in the back of his head, murmuring to him to keep going, that he couldn’t be selfish now, he had to keep looking.

But he’d been walking for so long, and his muscles ached, and his stomach was nipping at his insides from hunger. Maybe just a small break, he told himself. There was no point looking for the emeralds now, when he could hardly stand up straight anymore.

The hedgehog trudged over to the settlement finally, shuddering uncontrollably and gripping tight onto his cloak. It hardly provided any relief from the bitter cold, but it was all he had.

He found himself stumbling down a small slope into a makeshift town of sorts, that used walls of ice as a sort of protection from the harsh winds. Dotting the clearing were igloos, small but cozy looking. Columns of smoke wisped out of the tops of the structures, no doubt belonging to soothing flames inside. A few humans and mobians alike circled around a large bonfire in the center of the settlement, faces and bodies hidden beneath their thick parkas.

They spotted him quickly, and two of the larger beings approached him warily, one of them wielding a spear. As they neared, it was easier to make out the face of a gruff old man, his face wrinkled and grouchy, and a polar bear, more youthful but equally irritable.

“What is your business here, stranger?” the human asked. His face looked like it was constantly set like that, sagging down with an eternal scowl. The mustache he fashioned was surprisingly groomed, although it was still wiry and frizzy.

The bear beside the elder gripped his spear tighter, icy blue eyes regarding the cloaked stranger with almost a hint of terror.

“You aren’t serving Egg—Erm, _King_ Eggman, are you?” the polar bear wondered, his voice unexpectedly gentle. “Because I-I swear, we sent our shipment of supplies out, you don’t need to attack us, we learned our lesson, we just—we, um—”

The human snarled at his companion. “Have you no humility, Ursa? _Gaia,_ you must show some ferocity! Don’t let this stranger see through you.”

Holding up a hand in peace, the newcomer dropped the hood to reveal his face. The man narrowed his eyes even more, and the bear only looked bemused.

“Believe me, I don’t serve Eggman. In fact, I’m with the Resistance. I’ll get out of your hair as soon as possible, I just need some time to rest before I’ll be on my way.”

Clearly, this struck a chord with the old man, whose face screwed up into something spiteful. “Oh, Gaia, the _Resistance?!_ No, I’m afraid you will not be allowed to stay here. The last thing we need is to be associated with _you_ folk. We’re already on thin ice with the Empire.”

The hedgehog’s shoulders sagged visibly. “Really, I don’t need anything at all from you, except a bed and some food. I’ll be gone again before morning.”

“I said, _no,_ ” the man snapped. “Ursa, escort this heathen away from our encampment. I don’t want any more trouble.”

The bear hesitated a moment, casting a pitiful look towards the newcomer. “Chief, the blizzard is unbearable right now. We’d be killing him by sending him out there.”

“Well good, maybe he deserves it.”

“Chief!” the polar bear, Ursa, cried. “You can’t be serious. And I know you don’t want to be involved in the war, but…” he smiled tentatively at the hedgehog, “Surely it can’t do any harm by helping this guy out just a little, right?”

The Chief rolled his eyes. “You won’t ever drop this, will you?” The human glowered a few more seconds at his companion, before finally conceding. “... Alright, fine, he can stay in _your_ igloo. But I don’t want to see him anywhere else, and he better be gone before dawn.”

Ursa smiled wide at the man, before turning to the hedgehog. “Yeah, ‘course.”

With that, the polar bear eagerly led the newcomer back to his igloo, which was lodged a few dozen meters away in a small corner of the walled-in area. As soon as they entered, they were instantly met with a tender warmth, wafting in from the center of the structure from a small fire. A few sacks of what looked like cloth padded with fur were placed around the semi-spherical building, assumedly as makeshift bedding. A female polar bear, somewhere in her late twenties like Ursa, was nuzzled asleep in one.

The hefty male pulled down the hood of his parka, shuffling up to a pot draped over the flames as he continued stirring whatever was in it. The hedgehog wasn’t sure what, but its aroma was savory and rich, and it tickled his nose alluringly.

“Thank you,” the stranger murmured, as he took a seat on one of the sacks of cloth. “Really. I haven’t taken any shelter or eaten a real meal in days.”

Ursa smiled, lifting out the ladle to pour some of the contents into a smaller bowl, passing it down to the visitor. “It’s no problem, really. And sorry about Chief, he’s… He’s been pretty shaken up since everything started. Lost his kid when our town got infiltrated a couple weeks ago.” The bear served his own bowl before sitting down, himself. He eyed the contents with a distant, almost poignant gaze. “He hasn’t been the same, since.”

The hedgehog frowned, slightly, trying to ignore the way his heart ached at that.

_(Sounds familiar.)_

Instead, he transfixed on the dish he cradled in his lap, watching hungrily as steam twirled up from it. It appeared to be some sort of gumbo or stew, and it held a particularly strong fishy smell to it. He wasn’t the biggest fan of fish, admittedly, but as he took his first bite he almost shuddered at the way it melted into his mouth. Though maybe that was just his raw hunger speaking.

He peered up at the third occupant of the room, who was currently fast asleep. “Who’s she?”

The bear looked up at her as well, an adoring haze in his eyes. The hedgehog swallowed thickly against another painful pang in his heart.

“She’s my wife.”

_Ouch. Ouch. Ouch._

“That’s nice,” he said quickly, already feeling the anxiety swelling up in his chest, rising up his throat like bile. “This stew is good. Thank you, again.”

Ursa’s smile faltered a little. “Ah, it’s no problem. Um, do you…? Do you have anyone? A significant other?”

He was clenching his bowl so tightly he could almost see cracks beginning to form.

“I _did._ ”

The larger male sunk a little. “Oh! I… Sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“It’s fine,” the hedgehog gritted, but it _wasn’t._ He squeezed his eyes shut, taking a long, deep breath.

Sometimes if he thought hard enough, he could still see him. With his messy bed-head quills, his sloppy smile. The small gestures he’d make, like linking their pinky fingers together, or rubbing circles into his palms. If he thought really hard, he could still hear his laugh. So light and joyful. He could see his eyes, too. His gorgeous, vibrant, emerald eyes.

Their wedding would have been beautiful.

“Sir? Mr. Hedgehog? Um,” Ursa said, as the newcomer fell back into reality, and peeled his eyes open. “You have a name?”

He really _shouldn’t,_ revealing his identity could compromise the mission, but he was so damned tired, and he missed all his friends so badly. “It’s Shadow.”

The corners of the bear’s eyes crinkled as he grinned again. “That’s a nice name. Um, but… Really, I’m sorry to hear that. And I, uh… If you need anything—”

“Thank you, Ursa,” the agent murmured, leaning his head against the cool wall.

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

Shadow finished the rest of his gumbo, before placing the ceramic down and slowly sliding down to bundle up in the cloth. “I hope you don’t mind me resting here a little bit. I’ll leave in a few hours.”

Ursa looked a little shocked. “Oh! Uh, yeah, that’s fine. Stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you.”

Silence fell over the igloo for a small while, and the striped hedgehog could start to feel the exhaustion from trudging through miles of a frozen wasteland creeping up on him. His muscles still pulsed with fatigue, and his eyes burned from staying open.

“Um, Shadow?” Ursa piped up again, after a couple minutes. “I just wanna say, uh. Thanks. For everything you do. I mean, my Chief just wants us to do what the Empire tells us, ‘cause he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. But, it’s real brave, what you’re doing. I hope you guys win this stupid war. For everyone.”

For the first time in a long time, Shadow smiled. “I hope we win, too.”

Shadow hadn’t dreamt of anything in a while. His sleep was usually filled with empty black space and the vague echoes of haunting screams.

But tonight, he dreamt of sparkling emerald eyes and soft sapphire fur.

* * *

The apple felt rotten in his hands.

It felt warm and gooey and toxic, like it was burning away the threads of his gloves. He could almost hear the hiss of it searing into the material, more intense than even the sun’s rays beating down on him in waves of heat, or the stagnant air that pressed into his fur and drenched him in sweat.

_Six months. It’d already been six months. Yet every day he just felt more revolted by himself._

The first bite he had taken was sweet and juicy and it almost made his chest flutter with familiarity. But then that fucking voice in his head started talking again, and now all he could focus on was the repulsive, bitter flavor lingering on his tongue. His vision was a little hazy, from the heat maybe, or the sleep deprivation. Whatever it was, he could barely keep his eyes open. The apple looked vile and putrid as he squinted at it.

_(It should have been you. It should have been you. It should have been you.)_

With a pained grunt, he chucked the fruit away, watching dully as it landed back on the ground and tumbled through the dirt. He felt this brief glimmer of hope as he watched it roll further away from him, that maybe the voice would go with it.

_(Coward. Weak. Murderer.)_

But the voice still wouldn’t shut up.

He groaned exasperatedly, leaning forward a little and driving the heels of his palms into his temples. His head was pounding, and the heat felt like it was blistering his skin. Everything was so loud.

_(All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.)_

And the voice still wouldn’t _fucking_ shut up.

A sob was torn from his throat, and he flinched at how pathetic it sounded. He pressed his lips together tightly, silently trembling.

His backpack felt like lead, weighing him down and burning into his back. His shoes and gloves felt too tight on him. His lungs felt like they were dysfunctional, like they couldn’t fill with any air at all. It was all so hot, so loud. Everything was throbbing.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

_(All your fault. All your fault. All your fault.)_

* * *

Gadget’s lungs were on fire. And as much as his body was screaming at him to just take a few gasps of breath and relax, he knew he couldn’t. Because then they would hear him.

So instead, he had to settle with silently suffering, taking small gulps of air and stifling the whimpers that crawled up his throat as he swallowed a thick knot lodged in it.

He pressed his back to the cool wall, and almost just sunk into it. It was a nice relief from the ruthless heat. But raw fear was slithering all around his body in a bone-chilling way, keeping him alert and stiff and too terrified to even move a muscle. He could hear the clanks of multiple steel boots stomping around the ruins of the building, and each step made him flinch.

He thought briefly to himself that this might just be the worst day of his life.

 _(No, that was a few months ago. When_ he _went missing.)_

The wolf’s nose twitched. His muzzle was getting itchy from the snot dribbling down. He had this intense urge to wipe it off with his wrist, but it was greatly overpowered by the terror rocketing throughout his mind that yelled at him, _don’t move._

His eyes burned too, but that was more manageable. Dried up tears weren’t too irritating. What really bothered him was the blood caked in his fur, thick and still a little damp. Physically, he wanted nothing more than to take a shower and _get it off,_ because it felt so gross and sticky and he could already feel nausea churning in his stomach.

Psychologically, well. He may have lost the only thing left to call a home, even if it was just one of the last intact dorm rooms on his campus. And he also may have just had to watch those freaky robots kill all his friends, te _ar them to shreds, splatter their blood on his chest, rip the screams right from their throats—_

No. No. Breathe.

He was fine.

Perfectly, totally, fine.

 _(It wasn’t like they’d grown on him over these past months. Given him some sanity in this chaos. Almost made him forget he didn’t have_ him _anymore.)_

Nope. He was fine.

His eyes started to burn a little more and feel a little wet. He quickly blinked the sensation away.

A few robotic beeps echoed around the area, and more shuffling of metal could be heard. They sounded fairly close by now, and it sent Gadget’s heart rate through the fucking roof. He started to shuffle a bit away from them, though the process was painfully slow. His boots were too big and clunky, it was hard _not_ to make any noise with them.

At this point he could hear his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, and it almost physically hurt his chest from how hard it was pounding against it.

And then a blob of orange flanked his left vision, and he was flailing forward and yelping and falling and, shit, suddenly he was laying on the concrete.

The robot was glaring down at him with its bright blue optics, its stocky orange body that was almost goofy in design taking nothing away from how fucking creepy the thing was. It was definitely the smile. That smile was scary as _shit._

Its speakers were already crackling to life, ready to no doubt announce that it had found him to its little friends, but the wolf was already scrambling back onto his feet and breaking into a run.

He _knew_ Westopolis. He knew it like the back of his hand. He’d lived here his whole life. And, logically, he knew that right now, he needed to be using this to his advantage so he could easily get away and find a hiding spot where the creepy robots wouldn’t find him.

And yet, all that was running through his mind was _shit shit shit shit shit—_

It wasn’t long before his sides were already cramping, and his throat was consumed in this agonizing blaze of pain from wheezing so hard. He thought vaguely he could feel more tears on his cheeks, but at this point everything was sort of numbed by the indescribable horror that was suffocating him like ice water.

Chaos, his sides were really cramping up. So bad he was sort of awkwardly tilted now in a way that probably made him look like an idiot as he sprinted down the streets of Westopolis—although it wasn’t like there was anyone else around to observe. He wasn’t built for this. Gadget the Wolf was _not_ athletic. He was the _opposite_ of athletic, if anything. For fuck’s sake, he was majoring in _medicine._

And on top of dealing with the cramps, and the burning throat, he had to juggle being hyper-fixated on the road. It was covered in debris and glass, some streets being completely blockaded by collapsed buildings. The last thing he needed was to step on a big shard of broken glass, when he was currently running for his life.

Eventually he reached the outskirts of the city, and he couldn’t really hear the stampeding of metal behind him anymore. If he hadn’t lost them already, they were at least a ways behind and it wouldn’t be long before he shook them off.

The canine soon reached a sandy opening, complete with patchy, dried up grass and a crumbling highway that led out to the middle of nowhere. He continued his running, but slowed his pace a bit.

Noticing some foliage off to the left, he figured maybe he better cut through there just to ensure he had lost the pack of evil robots.

Gadget shoved through the thick flora, grunting at the small scrapes he received from all the thorns and branches that brushed against him. It didn’t bother him too much though. There was an undeniable flutter of relief he felt as he reached the other side, optimism filling his mind at the thought of finally being _safe._

And that’s when he found himself staring right into the barrel of a gun.

* * *

He stirred at the sound of gargling and choking sounds.

Shadow could hear the whirrs and hisses of machinery and metal working, too, which immediately made him go rigid.

He continued his façade of sleep, but cracked open an eye to get an idea of what in the _hell_ was even happening. Unfortunately, it was still very dark, so he could hardly see anything, let alone through a squinted eye.

Groggily, the hedgehog racked his mind for answers to where he was and how he got here, but for a long while he drew a blank. He was looking for the emeralds, wasn’t he…?

And suddenly he was hit full force with a tsunami of memories.

_Holoska. Cold. Town. Ursa. Stew._

Oh.

As his vision gradually adjusted, Shadow was able to vaguely make out the outlines of, _of course,_ fucking Egg Pawns. There were only three in here, but if he sprung up into action now, one of them would surely sound the alarm before he could destroy them all. There were always more of them.

So he bided his time. Kept his breathing steady, tried to keep still. Studied them.

The gagging noises were still occurring, and it was then that Shadow realized it must be Ursa or his wife. If he looked hard enough, he could see a still body across the igloo from him, definitely sitting in a puddle of _something,_ and, _fuck,_ he did not need to envision what it was. He was pretty sure that was the wife.

(Which meant he only had a little time left before Ursa was killed too.)

Something primal shifted in his gut at that thought, and the ebony male found himself leaping up from his position, tackling down the nearest Egg Pawn in an instant.

Chaos promptly erupted.

A shower of bullets fired around the small igloo haphazardly, as the Egg Pawn he grabbed at swung its arm cannon around frantically. Its pals were also caught out of their element, and began firing wildly in his general direction. Vague pain registered in his mind at one point, as he was sure a bullet or two had nicked his side, but his adrenaline was whipping through his blood stream so fast he barely noticed.

 _“Enemy detected! Enemy detect—”_ they all blared out, but the one in his hold was cut off as soon as he got a better grip around its neck joint, and slammed its metal skull straight into the icy wall.

Quick on his feet, Shadow lunged straight for the second one, this time digging his fingers deep into the crook of its neck, before tearing its head right off. He was sure to keep this one between him and the final bot, as a sort of shield from the hail of bullets currently firing at him.

As the steel body went limp in his arms, the striped agent dove to the ground, snagging the ankles of the final Pawn and yanking hard, so it fell right on its face. The robot flailed manically, before he drove his elbow into the back of its head, and it fell still.

Silence draped over the igloo once more, sans Shadow’s heavy gasps for breath.

After taking a moment to recuperate, the hedgehog wobbled onto his feet again, hissing as he clenched his left side, where one bullet was currently lodged and another had grazed him. He made a small grunt of pain as he wriggled the shell out, squeezing the wound tensely.

He turned to face the wife first, careful not to step in the puddle of her blood. It all seemed to waterfall out of the side of her head. Her eyes were wide open, as though once briefly in peril, but now they were glossy and dim. Shadow leaned forward, gingerly closing her eyelids.

He didn’t have much more time to dawdle. He needed to help Ursa up and get them the hell out of here. There were definitely more Egg Pawns waiting outside for them.

(He was almost a little grateful he hadn’t met his wife. He didn’t need that on his conscious. It was better that he never knew her.)

And then the agent turned to the other polar bear, and nearly gagged.

Ursa’s eyes looked like they were bulging out of his skull. His lips were a sickly purple, and the skin that could be seen beneath his ivory fur was paler than a ghost. There were dark imprints of fingers bruised around his throat, like the damn robots had strangled him to death.

The bear wasn’t moving. His eyes were just as empty as his love’s.

Shadow stumbled forwards, his legs suddenly feeling like spaghetti as the full weight of the situation dawned on him.

This was all his fault. The bots were no doubt here for him, and he’d led them all straight here, to kill innocents who didn’t even want to be involved. Their blood was on his hands. If he hadn’t been so fucking selfish, if he’d steered clear of this settlement, then maybe they would’ve woken up again this morning, and all greeted each other, and had some more fish stew together.

His head was spinning. He could already taste the bile on the back of his tongue.

Just as quickly as the guilt had consumed him, the rage had come even more ravenously, pulling him under and drowning any coherent thoughts left.

Shadow belted out a cry, and charged out of the igloo, met with the eerie stares of nearly a hundred more Egg Pawns.

He never hesitated, just charged right forwards, lunging at robot after robot, tearing them apart. He could see more emerging from the igloos, could see the blood staining their disgusting metal claws. They were all swarming around him, firing their bullets and throwing their steel punches, but he couldn’t register the pain any more.

All he could feel was pure wrath.

The hedgehog’s mind was reeling. His thoughts were getting jumbled up, and his vision was spotty with visions of the past. He couldn’t tell where he was anymore, just that _he needed to stop them. They took away what he loved. They deserved to die._

A frail smile would flash across his mind, with soft blue eyes and golden hair and carmine splashed across her gown.

A reaching hand, too far away, emerald eyes gazing longingly, emptily, as cobalt fur became stained in red.

Hundreds of faces, too much blood, drowning them all, killing them all. He couldn’t save them in time. He was losing them all. They were too out of reach.

And then it all became still. His limbs felt like lead, dragging him down, and the world tilted sideways. He could feel a prick of something lodged in his shoulder, like a needle, but he couldn’t figure out what because his mind was suddenly to muddled to string together a single articulate thought.

He glanced at his shoulder sluggishly, eyeing the dart in utter confusion, unable to figure out what it was or how it had gotten there. Moments later he fell to the ground in a limp heap, his head too fuzzy and his body too heavy to do much else of anything. He could see the orange bodies swarming around him, eyeing him with their piercing blue optics, grabbing at him with their cold hands.

His head was pounding, and it physically hurt to keep his eyes open any longer, to try and process what was happening.

He succumbed to the darkness, and everything melted away.


	3. rekindle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hskdjf i meant to post this saturday but totally forgot haha happy reading :)

**III.**

_rekindle (rēˈkind(ə)l)_

_[verb]_

_to revive (something that has been lost)._

* * *

Amy groaned wearily up at the ruthless sun, beads of sweat dragging down her face; her cheeks were flushed from the heat, and her shoulders were probably well beyond sunburned by now. The shady tree canopies above did little to shelter her from the harsh daylight, and while she appreciated the little relief it did provide, she still found the heat to be miserable.

The strawberry colored hedgehog leaned back against the towering tree trunk behind her, sighing dreamily as she felt some of the tension slip away from her strained back muscles. She let her eyes flutter shut for a moment, trying to relish in the moment of ease.

“C’mon, Amy, it’s not that hard. Sit up, let’s try again.”

She peeled open her jade orbs with subdued indignation. “We’ve been _trying_ for the past _hour._ I think it’s time to call it quits.”

Across from her, the echidna’s reserved look slipped into a frown. “You’re just thinking too hard about it. You start focusing on the energy, but then you _over-think_ and get too tense. You just need to relax.”

“Shouldn’t we be focusing on our _actual_ mission? We still haven’t found the Master Emerald,” the girl said in place of an actual reply, glaring pointedly at him.

“We aren’t supposed to check in with Rouge for another fifteen minutes or so. It’s still early in the day. We have time.”

Amy sagged a little against the tree, puffing out a breath of air in exhaustion. “ _Please,_ Knuckles, I’m tired.”

The guardian’s eyes softened a little, and he scooted forward, the damp soil beneath his legs staining his crimson fur. “It shouldn’t be tiring if you just relax—actually, soon it’ll come so natural to you it’ll feel invigorating. C’mon, if you want me to train you, you need to master this first. Just—Just try one more time.”

She sighed, but straightened her posture and criss-crossed her legs again in resignation.

Closing her eyes, the bubblegum warrior exhaled deeply through her mouth, attempting to lower her heart rate again. She tried blocking out any background noise—the distant chatters of the woodland critters, the gentle bristling of the trees in the wind, the trickling of a stream nearby—and honed her senses in on the feel of her chest rising and falling, and the sound of oxygen rushing in and out of her airways. She was able to let go of some of the tightness in her muscles, as she felt herself sink a little into the earth beneath her and become more grounded.

Vaguely, Amy could feel one of the large mitts of the echidna press into her back, steady and strong, and the other ease onto her stomach, light and gentle.

“There you go,” Knuckles murmured into her ears, “Just breathe.”

The hedgehog inhaled again through her mouth, feeling her lungs fill up, and exhaled through her nostrils, feeling it all glide out of her.

After moment, the carmine hero continued, “I’m gonna give you a little burst of energy again. I just want you to focus on that energy, just feel it. Don’t try to interact with it yet, just let it do the work.”

Amy straightened a little in anticipation, expecting a heavy push. She was surprised when just a small needle of energy slipped into her chest, though, settling for a moment in the pit of her stomach before expanding out and trickling across her body. She took another breath, her chest tickling a bit from the Chaos that wormed around inside of her. It felt warm and cautious, as though unsure of how to interact with her. As she exhaled again, she tried to let go of everything else, letting the Chaos merge with her subconscious. It did so tentatively.

“Good, good. Now you just need to open up your mind a little. Feel the energy all around us, in every living thing, thriving and breathing. Just… Take it slow. Ease into it,” Knuckles paused. “And _—when you’re ready—_ try to focus some into the palms of your hands.”

She hesitated for a second, then let the small bit of Chaos within her go, seeping steadily from her very pores and mingling with the energy in the air surrounding her. She could feel it, almost see it beneath her closed eyes, permeating through the air and pouring back into her with every breath.

And as she let herself go a little more, she could feel it’s presence even further away, heavier and thicker in the air. It ran along with the nutrients that traveled across plant stalks, and weaved through the fur of little rodents that roamed the woods. It radiated across the planet alongside the sun’s rays, a forever present cloud of energy that was everywhere all at once. It was so powerful, and she could feel it pressing against her, waiting for the moment when her soul died and truly became one with the Chaos as well.

The Chaos was everywhere. Her head started to pound as she submerged herself deeper, forgetting the simple things like swallowing, like breathing, like living. Discarded them. They were distractions. She could feel the Chaos burning into her skin, tugging at her very soul, wanting her to just lose herself, to lose everything, to—

“…Hey, Amy, _Amy!_ ”

The hedgehog gasped for breath, falling back as her eyes snapped open in horror. Sensations like feeling and hearing came back in pieces, and for a while everything was too blurry, too muffled, too numb. For a few moments, she just sat there, blinking rapidly and heaving her labored breaths. There was a large blob of red right in front of her, but it took a while for her mind to catch up and process what it was.

“—Shit, are you-? Are you alright? Just—Just breathe, okay? Deep breaths. In and out.”

 _Knuckles,_ she heard dimly from the back of her head. She was with Knuckles. In the woods. It was early morning. The sun was out. It was hot.

She tried to find words, but her tongue was cotton and her throat wouldn’t work right. Her friend eyed her worriedly, rubbing her arm in comfort. Amy leaned into the touch tiredly.

“Don’t talk, just breathe,” he told her, violet eyes pooling with concern.

She nodded—at least, she thought she did. Her strength was still struggling to come back to her.

“I told you take it slow. You were processing it all too fast, it was too much for you,” Knuckles said, accusingly, although he really just sounded more sympathetic than mad.

The bubblegum girl swallowed thickly, startled at how dry her throat suddenly felt.

And as she relaxed, the jittery sensation tugging at her gut began to dissipate. The echidna never left her side as her muscles turned to jelly, and the last remnants of Chaos filtered out of her system. He was here. Knuckles had always been here for her—especially since the war started, and he started training her. They _had_ to be there for each other; nobody else could.

They sat in a deep silence for a few minutes, as Amy’s breathing started to return back to normal, and Knuckles held her comfortingly. Her head still pounded, and she found it surprisingly helpful to stare into his gentle gaze to ease the pain. It was strangely calming, to just know that he wouldn’t leave her side.

After a while, she tried working her jaw, and spoke when she felt she could. “… So, can I take that break now?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

They stared at each other a little longer, though, neither willing to withdraw from how strangely close they were to each other.

And she wasn’t really sure what it was, but Amy felt this new feeling stirring in her chest, light and fluttery yet so heavy and longing. She found herself unable to object when he started to lean in closer and their lips locked into place.

It… It felt _good._ She could feel his body heat, pressing against her, his hands gentle as they slithered around her arms and gripped her lightly. She moaned a little into his mouth, her head going fuzzy from the torrent of dopamine pumping through her body. His lips were surprisingly soft, if not a little dry, and they worked slowly at hers.

But then he pulled away in a hasty motion, and she slowly opened her eyes again in a hazy confusion. And then she snapped back into reality, and withdrew in shock, jade orbs wide and cheeks hot from embarrassment.

“Oh,” she stammered, “Oh, I didn’t, uh—”

Knuckles looked equally flustered, and he scooted further away. “I, yeah, um…”

“It was just…” she floundered helplessly for some sort of reasoning. _Anything._ “… Just heat of the moment. W-We’re just really tired, and, um, it just. Happened.”

“… Right.”

“Right.”

The awkwardness was corporeal, and it was suffocating.

After a moment, Knuckles scrambled onto his feet. “Well. Um. How about we just call Rouge, and—”

He stopped, freezing up and narrowing his eyes.

Amy frowned, standing up as well. “… And, _what?_ Knuckles, what is it?”

In response, he put his hand to his lips, and beckoned vaguely in the direction ahead of him.

She folded her ears back in apprehension, turning to face that way. She couldn’t see anything. And she almost started to speak again, when the distant hum of revving motors filled her ears, and her heart dropped a little. “ _Oh._ ”

Her heart dropped even more to hear even an additional buzzing from a second source, up in the sky. The noise was becoming increasingly intense as the unseen foes approached.

Forgetting their camp supplies, their walkie-talkies, and the Chaos meditations, Knuckles grabbed Amy’s hand and _ran._

* * *

Despite the throbbing pain all around him, despite the _stupid_ apple that seemed to mock him from across the clearing, he felt himself freeze up and his heart stop upon hearing movement in the foliage off to the right.

Without hesitation he picked up the wispon by his feet, springing up off the log he sat on and making his way to the thick wall of underbrush. Whatever was in it was moving fast, and made no effort to muffle the noise of snapping branches and ruffling leaves that trailed behind it. He aimed the weapon, shaped like a bulky pistol that was painted a fiery red, and poised his finger over the trigger.

For a moment he almost thought maybe it was just some animal roaming about, that he was being foolish. And then a red mobian leapt out, frazzled and frantic, and stopped just before the weapon that was conveniently pointed right at his face.

It was a wolf, tall and lanky and relatively young. He fashioned a pair of glasses, large and rectangular, loosely fit on his muzzle; one of the frames was fractured. The canine also wore some hefty, sand green boots, and gloves of the same color. There was a tan sash and belt strapped around his torso, like he was some sort of rebel soldier from those old movies.

He mused to himself that the guy probably _was_ one, considering the circumstances nowadays.

There was a beat of silence, before the crimson wolf held up his hands in surrender, shaking a bit from probably just adrenaline, maybe fear.

(From the way the stranger gasped for breath and seemed to have been in a rush, he would have guessed the former. Although anybody would be scared from being held at gunpoint.)

“H-Hey,” the newcomer stuttered, still shaking like a leaf. His golden orbs were trained mostly on the nozzle of the gun, but they occasionally flickered up to the one who aimed it at him. “Look, I’m not the enemy here, I promise, I-I just ran into some of those creepy robots a-and—oh. _Oh,_ wait, if you’re with Eggman, I swear I just—I—”

He almost felt a twinge of sympathy. This guy was just a scared civilian, no doubt. (The sash he wore looked older than the wolf himself, and it probably didn’t carry any useful supplies or ammunition. In fact, he’d bet this guy had never even held a gun.)

Nevertheless, he kept his aim steady.

But the wolf stalled for a second. Blinked. Furrowed his brows. “… Wait, you—you’re just a kid, aren’t you?”

Something cold and hard sank in his gut, and he snarled. “No I’m _not._ I—I’m almost fifteen.”

_Way to go, idiot. That’ll definitely help your case._

The wolf let his lips twitch up into a grin, and a fang poked out of the corner of his mouth. “I’m pretty sure that still makes you a kid.”

He narrowed his eyes threateningly, and tightened his grip on the wispon in his hands. That seemed to wipe off the amusement on the stranger’s face pretty quickly. “What do you want?” he bit out.

“N-Nothing! It’s just…” the red male’s eyes suddenly became misty, and a vague frown marred his muzzle. “… I _just_ lost all my friends, a-and those killer robots chased me out of the city, and… And I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

His grip on the gun subconsciously loosened.

The wolf smiled uneasily. “I-I mean, it looks like you’re all alone out here, too, right? Surely you could use a friend?”

“I’m _fine._ ”

“… Where are your parents?” the canine pressed, hesitantly, (and, shit, suddenly his arm was shaking and he couldn’t hold the wispon steady anymore) “Or—or your friends? A sister, or brother?”

At the last word he felt something icy and bitter stab into his heart, and he bit his lip to try and restrain the burning sensation of welling moisture in his eyes. “Stop. Talking.”

The wolf stiffened. “O-Okay! Yeah, uh, no problem.”

They stood in silence for a moment, before he pinched the bridge of his nose and finally lowered the weapon. He bobbed his head in some vague direction off to the left. “Just go.”

But the stranger wavered. “A-Are you sure?”

He glowered at the wolf. “ _What._ ”

The wolf rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I mean… Maybe we could, uh. Help each other out? Clearly we’re both on our own, and, um. It’s better stick together, what with the way things are nowadays, right?”

He didn’t really have anything to say. H just continued eyeing the wolf warily, and rose a brow in bemusement.

The older male held out a hand, and grinned nervously. “I’m Gadget.”

He stared at the hand. Back up at the wolf. Back down at the hand.

 _… What the hell._ “I’m T—” and he stopped himself, because he wasn’t quite sure he was ready to hear somebody calling him _that_ name just yet. “… Miles.” He never accepted the handshake, just eyed it impartially.

After a moment, Gadget dropped his hand back to his side. “Nice to meet you, Miles.”

The teenager nodded uncertainly, before turning his back to the wolf and heading back to his log. He grabbed his knapsack and slung it over his shoulder. While over there, his sky blue eyes almost caught on the apple, still simmering in the summer heat just a ways away, but refused to let himself linger on _those_ thoughts. Besides, maybe this wolf guy would provide some distraction from the bad feelings (the _guilt,_ that always seemed to reemerge from the crevices of his mind, no matter how hard he shoved it away).

Clearing his throat and turning back to Gadget, he noticed the wolf was staring at his… extra tail a little strangely, and his words got stuck in his throat for a moment, expecting nasty insults. But the red mobian just disregarded it after a second, and smiled at him.

“So, uh,” the wolf started, unsurely, “Do you have, like, any sort of shelter?”

Miles shrugged after a moment. “Yeah.”

Gadget looked almost painfully uncomfortable, and his smile was tight. “Um, could we…? Could we _go_ there?”

The younger boy narrowed his gaze in scrutiny, and the wolf squirmed uncomfortably under it. “Are you gonna ambush the place with your secret gang of bandits and steal my stuff if I take you there?”

“No! Of course not!” Gadget exclaimed, holding up his hands defensively. “I-I told you, I lost everyone I know. And I’d never do that anyways, I swear. It’s just… Really hot out here, and—and those robots might, uh, might come back soon.”

Miles eyed him curiously for a brief moment, before starting to head back into the foliage, towards Westopolis. “C’mon.”

“You—” the wolf startled, “You live in the city?! _How?_ It’s swarmed with robots, you can’t—”

“Just follow my lead,” the teen said, beckoning for Gadget to follow. He added on for good measure, “I’ll protect you.”

The canine’s face reddened, and he bowed his head. “ _I don’t-!_ … Um. Thanks.”

Miles snickered, and the pair made their way towards the city.

* * *

Eventually, he had just sort of lost count of how many days he’d been here.

He gave up after around four months. And not too much time could have passed since then, but every day was still relentless and they dragged on too long for him to bear. It was getting harder for him to retain any optimism. Retain any hope that they were still looking for him.

And, really, he couldn’t blame them for giving up. Because they probably did. He was a lost cause. And if what Infinite told him was true, then they all had bigger problems to focus on, like staying alive and saving the world. It’d be a waste of precious resources to keep looking for him.

_(It still kind of hurt, though.)_

He was just… Tired. So tired. And some days all he wanted to do was just close his eyes and give up. Stop breathing. Stop trying to mend the new wounds he gained each day.

But if he was anything, he was stubborn. And there was this faint glimmer of hope in the deepest depths of him that still pushed through. Told him to never cave to the beatings, or the torture.

It was probably the engagement ring that kept that glimmer alive. After the hours of pummeling, and unnecessary surgeries, and water boarding, it still remained smooth and polished, snugly fit on his finger. He’d admire it for hours, stare deeply into the ruby gem embedded into it; it made him forget about his insomnia, about the tears drying on his muzzle. The ring told him stories of what could have been. It told him stories of gentle kisses, of a honeymoon, of growing old together.

A real shame he’d never get to have that, now.

But he could still dream.

When the jackal entered his cell, with a few Egg Pawns tailing behind, he didn’t even acknowledge them. He didn’t care much where they were going to drag him off to, at this point. He faintly wondered if they were finally just going to off him.

Strangely enough, though, they didn’t try to drag him out of the cell this time. Instead, they stabbed his arm with a needle that made his muscles get tingly and his head become cloudy.

It was a pleasant feeling, really, considering how it numbed the horrible wound on his arm. It had been caked in blood, constantly filtering out of the gashes for the past fifteen minutes, spilling into a warm puddle of the carmine ooze beneath him. Metal Sonic had gotten a little out of control in his last beating, and his steel talons had dug a little _too_ deep into his flesh.

This injury was one of the more serious ones, and he’d probably bleed out soon. Normally Eggman stitched him right up, because they couldn’t have their little _toy_ break, but the injection of drugs? Now that was different. Typically they wanted him conscious for the operation. It was probably more fun for them that way.

 _Maybe this is their way of finally just killing me,_ he mused to himself as his vision grew dark around the edges.

No, it couldn’t be. It was too merciful.

Sonic was lost to a numbing darkness before he could think anything else.

…

His body found bliss in the brief period he was finally able to rest.

…

And then he woke up again.

With a weary groan from the back of his throat, Sonic began to peel open his sunken eyes. He was greeted with an uncomfortably bright light shining in his face, and grimaced at it for a second before adjusting.

His body felt weird and floaty. His nerves were slowly awakening from their slumber, and he had pins and needles dancing across his entire form. Vaguely, he registered that his entire right side ached uncomfortably, and that there was this burning sensation quickly becoming more apparent in his right shoulder.

Hissing in pain, the hedgehog tried to shift a little and look at his arm, to see what the problem was, only finding that it made more pain flare up in his side.

But before he could try again, the speedster froze suddenly when he heard a voice from just outside the room. It sounded dull and automated; an Egg Pawn, probably.

“… Yes, sir, the operation was successful. The sedatives should last approximately fifty-four more minutes… Yes, it was correctly installed. The remote controls have already been shipped out to both of your locations. They should arrive in…”

He tuned out the bot, disinterested in hearing the rest of what it had to say. He was still stuck on its previous words. What the _hell_ happened to him?

Vision now much more well adjusted, the blue blur was able to finally look at his arm, to hopefully get a good idea of how bad it was.

And he nearly gagged.

It was… gone. Missing. Torn off of his body.

And in its place was a cybernetic arm, composed of a shiny, violet steel that glinted a little in the lamp’s lighting. Bile stirred in his stomach and started crawling sickeningly up his esophagus.

Sonic looked down at the rest of his body. He was strapped to a table with leather bindings around his wrists and ankles. Off to the left was a small stand that held various surgical tools. The cold feeling of dread sunk harder into his gut as reality started to set in.

They’d really done it. They amputated his arm off, and—and made him _half-fucking-machine._

He took a moment to lift his gaze up to the ceiling, to steady his breathing and let his stomach settle. Using his left thumb, _his normal thumb,_ he rubbed easy circles into the gold ring around his finger. He forced out a trembling sigh, closing his eyes for a second. He could do this; he was fine. He was _Sonic the Hedgehog,_ for fuck’s sake, and he could adapt. He had to.

Tentatively, the blue blur made the mental effort to flex his fingers. There was a miniscule delay, but surely enough, the metal fingers moved as he wanted them to. He almost felt relief, because hey, at least he still _had_ an arm; regardless, he was still nauseas at the idea of what had just happened to him. _Had those gashes in his arm really been that bad?_

But as his mind reeled and his stomach churned uneasily, this… _idea_ struck him. This stupid, ridiculous idea.

Because, supposedly, he wasn’t going to wake up for another fifty or so minutes. Which meant they were going to leave him here, somewhat unguarded, for that span of time. Because, supposedly, there was no need to guard him. _Supposedly,_ he was unconscious, and they didn't have to worry about him for the time being.

Despite the trauma of his arm, the dreary numbness that still enveloped most of his body, and the fact that he’d been held captive for months, Sonic felt a wicked grin spread across his face.

He wondered how strong his new arm was. And with a twist of his wrist, a yank upwards, and a satisfying tear of thick leather, he quickly got his answer. Frantically, he used the prosthetic limb to tear off the cuff on his fleshy wrist, and promptly did the same for his ankles.

There was this fluttery sensation in his chest that was just _indescribable_ as the hedgehog stared down at himself.

_He was free._

He was free from his bonds, from his cage, from his imprisonment. _He could walk out right now, and nobody could stop him._ Inhaling deeply, his system became flooded with newfound adrenaline. He could practically taste the fresh air and the beaming sunlight, just outside, calling to him.

Without wasting another second, Sonic leapt off the table, shoved the door open, and ran out into the hall in a magnificent feat of alacrity. And while sirens began to wail obnoxiously in his ears, and his vision was overtaken by flashing red lights that flickered that throughout the facility, he didn’t falter once as he tore down the maze of monochrome hallways.

In fact, for the first time in months, he _laughed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am once again apologizing for any cringe writing i produced 2-3 years ago. bear with me <3


	4. faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay, i've been swept up in school & life lately lol

**IV.**

_faith (fāTH)_

_[noun]_

_complete trust or confidence in someone or something._

* * *

Shadow came to slowly, his vision dark and fuzzy and his head filled with cotton. He took a deep breath, feeling the stale air wash throughout his system and start to awaken all of his nerves and muscles and bones. Blinking a few times, the hedgehog tried to make out his location, stiff and calculating, but it was too dark to tell.

It eventually came to his attention that he was sitting in a chair of some sort, that felt icy cold against his back. He also started to realize that his arms were tied behind the chair, and that’s when the first droplets of fear started to come trickling into his mind.

He tried to pull free from the bonds around his wrists, but it was fruitless. A rush of numbing pins and needles rolled across his arms at the action, and it felt strange and uncomfortable. The same thing happened as he tried to move his feet, which were each bound to the frontal legs of the chair.

Head still warm and foggy, it was difficult to concentrate on how he got here and what was happening. The room he was in was still too dark to make out, and his blurry vision wasn’t helping.

“You’re awake,” a voice suddenly intruded, and it made every bone in Shadow’s body grow rigid. The voice was low and warped, chillingly calm, and he knew exactly who it was.

The agent’s jaw was still too numb to work, so all he could do was glower as the jackal stalked towards him, a Chaos Emerald poised between his claws.

Infinite chuckled lowly, withdrawing an empty syringe and dangling it before the hedgehog’s tired ruby eyes. “You know, it was rather difficult trying to concoct a sedative strong enough to put _you_ to sleep, but this certainly did the trick.”

Shadow scowled at the tyrant. His memories were still returning to him in pieces. The last thing he remembered was roaming the wastelands of Holoska, searching for emeralds. He wasn’t quite sure how that led him here, but it seemed like whatever substance they injected into him was enough to keep him disoriented for a while—and hopefully not much longer.

“And,” the jackal continued, undoubtedly grinning like a maniac beneath his mask, “I must thank you for the emeralds. They’re certainly welcome additions to our collection.”

Grunting, the ebony agent tried to formulate words, but they came out slurred and quiet. His tongue was being uncooperative. “… What’re you gonna do t’me?”

Infinite laughed to himself, inspecting the gem in his hand. It glowed a subdued turquoise, and Shadow could almost feel a bit of its energy feeding into him. If anything, it would help flush out the fatigue from the drugs in his system.

“See, we’ve currently got a _… rodent problem._ One of my captives has escaped. And while I would _love_ to trust that Metal can get the job done, he can still be rather incompetent.” Leaning in close, the dictator purred into the agent’s ear, “So, you, my dear Shadow, are going to be the bait.”

With that, Infinite placed a hand to the Phantom Ruby embedded in his chest, before slowly pulling it away as he conjured a carmine scimitar from the strange gem. It looked almost transparent, like a projection, but it was most definitely corporeal. He held the blade to Shadow’s throat, and the ebony hedgehog clenched his jaw as it drew a bead of blood. It traveled leisurely down his neck in a thin stream of carmine.

“Now then,” the canine said, cocking his head to the side, “Let’s get you ready for the cameras.”

* * *

The streets of Westopolis were almost entirely abandoned. In fact, aside from the debris of various collapsed buildings, and the occasional badnik patrolling around, there were no other signs of life in the once grand city. It was a bit of a relief, in a way, but it also put Gadget on edge, because now all he could think about was where that pack of robots from earlier could’ve gone.

Miles—who was a fox, he assumed—guided their trek through the metropolis, this time wielding a completely different weapon from the gun he’d used earlier. It was strange looking; only a steel hilt, no blade or anything attached. He figured he’d just have to trust that the kid knew what he was doing.

Gadget was quiet during their journey. There was this childish fear stirring within him that insisted that talking would only draw more enemies to them; so instead, he looked to his inner musings to fill the silence.

Miles was a strange kid. He was just that _—a kid—_ yet he was oddly mature for his age (and if he was telling the truth earlier, he was no older than fifteen). And those weapons the boy had, they were unlike anything Gadget had ever seen. He still couldn’t quite understand the purpose of the weird hilt-thing the fox carried, and even that red gun-thing was strangely bulky. Plus, the kid had—had _two_ tails. And he certainly wasn’t gonna point it out, or anything (he wasn’t _rude_ ), but still. It was strange.

“Shit,” the younger teen murmured, suddenly. Gadget’s amber eyes flickered up to him in question, heart rate spiking at the urgency in the other’s tone, before it plummeted to the pit of his gut. A swarm of violet titanium approached from down the street, no doubt some new badniks patrolling. “Over here.”

In a blink of an eye, Miles had already ducked behind a car, holding up the strange metal hilt defensively. With only a moment of hesitation, the college student followed suit. They stayed crouched there for a few seconds, and Gadget started nervously fingering the hem of his glove.

“What are they?” the crimson mobian whispered, finally, peeking over the hood of the abandoned vehicle. The bots were getting closer, and it was then that he noticed their strange resemblance to… ostriches? Or some other kind of bird, at least.

“Egg Walkers,” the fox replied, his tails swishing around anxiously, betraying his level tone. He fiddled with some buttons on the metal rod he wielded. “They aren’t too tough, but there’s still, like, ten of them. Just wait here, I’ll—”

“No,” Gadget said, a little bit too loudly. Both of them flinched at it, but after another quick glimpse at the Walkers, it seemed like they still hadn’t noticed them. The wolf took a shaky breath. “… I—I wanna help fight.”

Miles rose a brow, but after a moment, pulled out the strange, red gun out of his knapsack, and handed it to the older male. “Fine. The safety’s on, by the way. Just hold down the trigger to activate the flames. And don’t overuse it—it overheats easily.”

The wolf blinked, staring at the device in awe as he flipped off the safety. “The fla— _This is a flamethrower?!_ ”

He earned a smirk from Miles. “Something like that. Now c’mon, follow my lead.”

With that, the teenager flicked the metal hilt downwards, and during the motion, a stream of electricity protruded out, like some sort of rope. It crackled on the asphalt, shimmering a bright tawny.

Gadget could only gape. “ _… Is that an electric whip?!_ ” he hissed, fixing his frames.

Miles’ smirk widened. “Less talking, more fighting.”

“… R-Right.”

And without another word, the kit leapt into action, slinging the whip (that was apparently made of pure electricity?) forwards as it wrapped around the torso of one of the robot-ostriches. He yanked the tether back, and the badnik fell forward, sliced into two. He snickered triumphantly, and thumbed his nose.

Tentatively, Gadget started forwards as well, pulling down on the trigger. He gasped as a plume of flames rocketed out of the weapon, engulfing two of the bots and melting them down to worthless puddles of half-solid metal and fizzling circuitry. The blaze felt hot against his face, and the weapon began to burn against his gloved hands. He quickly released the trigger, huffing out in relief.

Without any hesitation, he then swiveled to the right, and was met with the sight of two missiles whizzing right towards him. The red male yelped in surprise, stumbling back. His breath hitched as a lash of lightning flicked through the air and snapped against the rockets, causing them to explode midair. Turning to Miles, he gave an admittedly awkward thumbs-up in thanks.

The fox nodded, an easy smile playing at his lips, before his sapphire orbs bulged. “Look out!”

Caught by surprise, the wolf fell backwards, aimlessly firing his weapon. One of the Walkers lunged towards him at a slightly jarring speed—and it probably would’ve trampled him if his companion hadn’t leapt forward straight at it.

Instantaneously, Miles pressed something on the hilt of his whip, and it contracted back into the steel bar, before a shorter beam of electricity was erected, resembling something like a sword. The boy sliced the elongated neck of the bird-like bot right into two, skidding to a stop as it collapsed to the ground.

“You okay?” the tangerine fox asked. Gadget nodded slowly.

“What kind of weapon is that thing?”

Miles snickered, and opened his mouth to speak, before something else behind the elder caught his attention and he charged after it. The sounds of crackling voltage and the groans of failing machinery could be heard over his shoulder. When the wolf stood back up, all of the Egg Walkers were already destroyed.

The younger boy clicked a button on his weird-lightning-sword, and the current of golden light withdrew back into the hilt. Smiling to himself, he slipped it back into the side pocket of his knapsack. “Hey, uh. Thanks for the help.”

Gadget gave a sheepish grin. “I mean, you did most of the work. How’d you learn to fight like that, anyways?”

Suddenly, Miles’ face fell, and it seemed like all the progress that had been made to get him to open up was lost. “… Don’t worry about it. Let’s keep moving.”

A pang of guilt in his chest, the college student couldn’t find anything to say, simply nodding dejectedly and tailing after him in silence.

They wandered the streets a little while longer, and the late afternoon sun had just began its descent towards the horizon, painting the honey sky a faint peach. It was hard to truly admire it, though, what with all the crumbling skyscrapers blocking the view. The wolf took the time to steady himself and phase out the adrenaline still coursing through his system from the prior battle; his hands still trembled slightly.

Just as Gadget began to ask aloud if they were close to their destination, Miles made a sudden pivot into a small convenience store, with shattered windows barricaded by flimsy oak planks, and the barren shelves inside toppled over like dominoes. Wordlessly, the red mobian followed him inside.

But as he stepped into the tiny building, he instantly ran into Miles, who was halted right at the entrance.

“We gotta be careful,” the kit explained. “I rigged the place with traps.”

Miles then took a sudden step to the left, promptly leapt forward onto a barely legible ‘x’ marked on the floor, and proceeded to follow an irregular pathway to the back of the shop. Tentatively, Gadget followed suit, trying to mimic the other’s precise actions. If the kid’s peculiar, possibly-homemade weapons were anything to go by, he certainly didn’t want to deal with the traps he’d created.

After a few minutes of jumping and sliding across the store in a manner that honestly would have embarrassed Gadget, had there been anyone else there to bear witness, the pair reached a strange bookshelf pressed against the back wall. The two-tailed fox grabbed the side of the furniture, and pulled it over to the left. Doing so revealed a hole in the wall, just small enough to crawl through.

“Always slide it to the left,” Miles cautioned, before slipping through the fissure. “Also, can you pull that back into place behind you?”

The carmine mobian crept in after the other, and with a groan, pulled the bookshelf back into place. It was clever, hiding this outlet with that. In fact, Miles seemed ridiculously clever for a kid his age. Gadget was starting to think Chaos himself had led him to this fox—although, out of pity or whatever else, he couldn’t really say.

Turning back around, the elder male found a small set of spiraling stairs before him. He hopped down them, finding himself in a dank little basement that was no larger than his old college dorm, illuminated by only a dusty lantern and a few candles.

Several cardboard boxes were placed around the walls, most of them taped shut, and only a few torn open. There was a slightly frayed loveseat in the opposite corner of the room, as well as a sleeping bag on the floor beside it. Miles was propped up on one of the cardboard boxes right by the entrance, at the base of the stairs. He was rummaging through another box beside him, eventually pulling out an aluminum can with its label torn off.

Gadget reddened when his stomach growled at the sight.

The fox looked to him and snickered, and taking a small pocket knife from the knapsack by his feet, he pried the can open. He peered inside to contemplate the contents, before shrugging and holding out a rusty spoon to the wolf.

“You like peaches?”

And the crimson boy almost teared up a bit, because, fuck, it had been _so long_ since he’d had real food—even if it was canned. He was used to dumpster-diving for half eaten boxes of stale crackers, so—so _this?_ This was a _godsend._

Graciously, he accepted the utensil and scooped out a slice of the fruit, popping it in his mouth. He hummed delightedly as it practically melted on his tongue. It was overly sweetened, but he wasn’t complaining. “They’re my _favorite._ ”

Miles fished a peach out as well, chewing it thoughtfully. He smiled and gulped down the fruit. “Well, good, because this box is loaded with those. But I’m pretty sure there’s other things too—I think I had applesauce the other day.” He paused to search in the box again, withdrawing another unlabeled can. “Why don’t you just take the whole thing? I’m sure you’re hungry, and I’ve got plenty to spare.”

Practically beaming, Gadget took the container and began eating more peaches. They tasted like the best thing he’d ever eaten, sweet and mushy and delectable. He’d almost forgotten how much he loved them.

“How’d you find this place, anyways?” the wolf asked through a mouthful of fruit, eyes wandering around the dim room.

The fox pried open his can with the pocket knife to find some nectarine slices, and hastily ate one in his pleasant surprise. “It was abandoned. I dunno how it got here, but one day I just ambled into this store and found that hole in the wall. All the boxes were still here, plus that couch. The sleeping bag was mine, though.”

“Well,” Gadget remarked in bafflement, “You definitely got lucky, kid.”

Miles narrowed his eyes at that, but didn’t say anything, instead savoring his own can of fruits. Promptly, he hopped up off the box and dragged his knapsack over to the loveseat. He withdrew the metal hilt from earlier, plus some various tools like a screwdriver and tweezers, beginning to tweak the device.

“You can take the sleeping bag, tonight,” said the kit, his teal eyes trained on the weapon. “It’s more comfortable than the loveseat—these cushions are hard as rock. Oh, and can I get that wispon back?”

“Wispon?” the elder mobian echoed, face scrunched up in confusion.

The fox chuckled. “Sorry, yeah, the flamethrower. These two both use Wisps’ energy—which they provide willingly, I promise,” he, curiously, added on. “I wanna add some upgrades to them, though.”

Gadget complied and handed over the crimson gun. “The Wisps are those aliens from the news, right?”

Miles simply nodded in response and hummed quietly, heavily concentrated on his work. “They’re real friendly. I met them a while ago, and I guess you could say they owed me one, so…” A beat of silence passed between them, and Gadget settled down in the sleeping bag.

Staring up at the ceiling, he wondered aloud, “So, you made those things? The wispons?”

Miles bobbed his head again. “Yeah. I, uh, I’ve got a knack for inventing stuff.”

“That’s pretty amazing,” he said with a risen brow, “You must be pretty dang smart, huh?”

The fox laughed a little, and it sounded almost wistful. “… Yeah, I guess so.”

Silence draped over the pair again, and Gadget decided to relish in it, letting his eyes close shut. Hopefully tonight wouldn’t be too ridden by nightmares; today had been—horrific, to say the least, but he had wishful thinking that Miles, and the peaches, and maybe even his memories of _his_ face would get him through the night.

_(It was still just wishful thinking, though.)_

* * *

He ran as fast as he could, legs aching and his throat burning, until he stumbled into the outskirts of a large city.

It was Station Square, he could tell. Despite the toppled buildings and crumbling streets, he could never forget the city that was practically his home. And it was disheartening, _devastating,_ even, to see the metropolis in shambles like this—there was no doubt that the damages were lofty and the death toll even higher. But that same, small spark of hope within himself persisted in his heart, delicate and yet gradually flaring to life. It was the only thing keeping him going.

Sonic jogged to a stop as he reached a street corner, by something of what looked to once be a small café, maybe. It was now nothing but a husk of its formal self, though, with boarded up windows and overturned tables out front. The hedgehog paid it no mind, simply taking a second to sit in one of the still intact chairs and catch his breath.

He rubbed his cramping legs uneasily, a tired frown marring his face. He’d only ran for maybe ten minutes—and yeah, obviously, it had been really fast—but, _man,_ he was out of shape. The speedster supposed he could blame it on having nothing to do in the past five or so months aside from sit around in his cell, but it still bugged him that his strength would be hindered for a while till he could build up some muscle again. Right now, he was probably a bit on the unhealthily-skinny side (but, hey, at least his ribs weren’t showing).

The blue blur slouched in his seat, ending his leg massage to simply scan the barren city and drum his fingers restlessly on the table. He could spot a few bots patrolling the streets in the distance, but figured that as long as he kept his head low and stuck to the shadows, he’d be alright for a while.

But despite the somewhat stable game plan formulating in his head, Sonic still was growing more and more tense by the second from the pressing thought in the back of his mind.

He needed to find everyone, before _they_ found him.

With a groan, the hedgehog stood up again, deciding he’d rested long enough already. The sooner he got a move on and found all his friends (his brother, his _fiancé_ ) the sooner he could truly rest; the idea of just _seeing_ a familiar face again was unbelievably exhilarating.

Starting down the sidewalk, Sonic screwed up his face in suspicion, holding his new prosthetic to eye-level. He twisted it around, watching the fresh coat of violet paint shimmer in the sunlight. As neat as it looked (Tails would surely get a kick out of analyzing it), something just felt… _off_ about it.

Maybe, he mused grimly to himself, there was a bomb inside of it—and ol’ Eggbreath would be able to blow him to pieces at the press of a button. His lips twitched a little at the thought; he wasn’t sure if he should be entertained by it, or deeply disturbed _(because, honestly, nowadays? It didn’t sound completely farfetched)._

 _Maybe,_ a voice whispered from the back of his head, foreign and distressing and very much unwelcome, _there’s a tracking device stuck in the arm._

And suddenly his heart plunged.

Not wasting a second, Sonic clawed frantically at his arm socket, where the metal had fused with his flesh, trying manically to pry the damn thing off. It sent needles of sharp pain sending down the prosthetic (he didn’t even want to know how they managed to put nerves in a _robot-fucking-arm_ ) and across his side. He hissed at the burning sensation, scrunching up his nose as blood started to trickle out from the seam between steel and skin.

After a few more seconds of fruitless clawing, that only resulted in more blood oozing from his arm socket and more shooting pain, the hero finally halted his efforts, leaning his back against the cool wall of a building.

 _Okay,_ he finally concluded _, so maybe I can’t take this thing off._

(Here’s hoping he’d run into a certain brainiac fox that could check for any _GPS-whatever’s_ installed in the hunk of garbage before disaster struck.)

Pushing back off the wall, the hedgehog continued his sullen trek, only now mentally cursing at himself for the newfound pain in his arm.

Finding his friends. Right. Gotta focus on the positives.

(Except thinking about his friends just made him think about—about _then._ It made him think about _the junkyard,_ about how he’d _failed,_ about the look of _pure horror_ on Tails’ face, the kid who doesn’t deserve to ever shed a single tear because _dammit he’s so young,_ as a searing pain had snapped across his stomach, blood gushing out, his vision darkening—it just—it all happened so fast and—)

Sonic exhaled deeply, coming to a stop to steady himself. _In and out. In and out._

Tails was gonna be okay. They all were. And he was gonna show them that he was okay too. Or at least, that he _would_ be, anyways.

The hedgehog felt his own hand ease onto his stomach. His thumb ghosted along the scar, that was still red and puffy and streaked right down his chest like a bolt of lightning. It was almost unbearable to look at _—just reminded him of his failure—_ but he still couldn’t help his temptation to touch it constantly. It was just a subconscious thing, like his mind was still trying to process that that day actually happened.

Lost in his own thoughts, the speedster almost didn’t hear the newcomer behind him. Almost.

“ _I hope you’ve enjoyed your afternoon stroll._ ”

That voice, sharp and tinny and downright bone-chilling, sent shudders down Sonic’s spine. That voice still chased him in his nightmares sometimes. And, lately, it was getting real damn hard to distinguish nightmare from reality. It took a moment to remind himself that this _was_ real, this _was_ really happening, he _was_ probably about to die, before he turned around.

He tried to wear at least a little coolness in his expression as he faced the other—although he probably looked mortified, anyways.

“ _It’s a shame that I must be the one to end it._ ”

Metal Sonic’s carmine optics glowered something deadly in the summer heat, engine starting to whirr to life and steel talons twitching with bloodlust. Sonic felt his quills bristle at the sight, and he swallowed thickly.

“C’mon, man, just lemme stop and smell the roses for a bit,” the cerulean male said, mentally bashing himself for the slight tremor in his voice. “I—I mean, it’s been months since I’ve seen daylight. Can’t blame me for bein’ a little curious, can ya’?”

“ _I suppose not,_ ” the machine replied after a brief pause, and it started to circle the hedgehog, steadily and tauntingly. It irked Sonic; he was being toyed with, and he knew it. “ _But surely you acknowledge the punishments for your noncompliance?_ ”

The blue blur shrugged, keeping his eyes trained on his robotic twin. He went for a cheeky grin, and really hoped he looked confident. “Eh, I mean, sure, I get that you guys are probably super pissed right now. But you see,” emerald orbs promptly narrowed to slits, “I’m not planning on goin’ back there.”

“ _Your humor fails to reach me, but I can’t help but find amusement in the fact that you believe you have an option in this matter._ ”

“Believe me, buddy.” Sonic dropped his tone to a snarl, done with the games. He lowered into a stance that was ready to break into a run at any given moment. “You’re gonna have to drag my cold, dead body back to that hellhole.”

Metal conjured some strange noise from its speakers that he supposed was some sort of scoff. Its ruby eyes searched the hedgehog’s face shrewdly. “ _Infinite would most likely be displeased if I were to terminate you, but… So be it._ ”

In the blink of an eye, Sonic’s vision was flooded with a swash of navy blue, as a rock-hard foot of literal steel rammed into his side and sending him flying across the street. The hedgehog skidded to a stop on the ground, before swiftly lunging back onto his feet and flipping out of the way just in time to dodge a bear-tackle from the sadistic bot.

Stumbling a moment as he tried to find his footing, the speedster cried out as steel knuckles then rocketed into his back, and he was flung forwards like a helpless ragdoll. He landed hard against the pavement, forcing himself to roll onto his back just in time to see Metal saunter up to him. It aimed its chest-cannon right at him, engine beginning to alight with a golden radiance. Heart skipping a beat at the sight, the hero pulled his legs up to his chest, before kicking them forwards and upwards, right into the robot’s gut.

Metal fell backwards from the force, and Sonic seized the moment to leap onto the bot and shove it to the ground, planting a hand across its face and using his prosthetic arm to start punching the core of its engine. He couldn’t help but grin a little triumphantly.

And the machine writhed for a moment, just as the hedgehog started to get caught up in his inner musings of how strong his new limb was, before it managed to latch its digits around his cybernetic elbow and yank down _hard._

Sonic yelped at the sudden action, watching fresh blood creep to the surface of the fissure at his shoulder, his emerald eyes misting up at the flare of pain across his entire right half. Metal almost pulled again at the steel arm, before the speedster was able to use his free hand to grab at the silver fingers and meticulously pry them all off himself.

As soon as he was free from its grip, the blue blur jumped backwards and to his feet, baring his fists in anticipation of an attack. But the killer machine took him by surprise, lunging right for his ankles and pulling him back to the ground. His quills did little to cushion the impact of his skull slamming into the asphalt.

He yelled out in pain at the blow, the world slowing briefly as his vision dulled a tad. A metal body crawled over him and started grabbing at his throat, barbed fingers jabbing into flesh. With his violet arm, Sonic managed clutched onto the side of Metal’s skull and thrust it down to the left, smashing it against the road.

Its head crumbled satisfyingly, the pressure of Sonic’s metal arm causing its cranium to cave a bit inwards, and its glass optics to fracture. The hedgehog seized the chance to push it harder against the ground, hoping that maybe he could damage some internal hardware. Unfortunately, his moment of victory was cut short as the bot sent a metal boot right into his kneecap, and pain splintered across the bone, forcing him to recoil. Metal took the opportunity to grab a hold of his fleshy bicep and push off the ground with its jetpack.

The nemeses shot through the air, the robot using its jet’s propulsion to send them straight into a building, as it proceeded to slam Sonic back against the cement wall. Metal dug the claws of its free hand into his chest, drawing pinpricks of blood, as it began strangling him with the other.

Sonic flailed helplessly, kicking and wheezing, but his energy was running out and his vision was blurring around the edges. All his mind could do was scream at him, scream at him to _get away_ and _survive._

Thinking only on instinct, the speedster threw his head forwards, colliding right into Metal’s navy blue plating. Sonic groaned in pain, muscles slackening a bit as his head spun _because what the fuck, why did he do that, he can’t head-butt a fucking robot,_ but surely enough his psychotic twin relinquished its grip and stumbled backwards, giving him a moment to breathe.

Refusing to let go of his advantage now, Sonic scrambled to grab at the machine, getting a good grip on its shoulder before throwing it against the wall just beside himself. Luckily enough, the space of wall next to him happened to be a window, and he grinned triumphantly as its steel head smashed right through the glass, optics flickering in and out for a moment. It pulled itself forwards, pausing to collect itself, a couple shards of the window pane sticking out of its head.

With a heavy gasp of air, and color starting to seep back into his eyesight, the blue blur took a couple steps back and rubbed his temples. “Chaos, _fuck—_ ”

His knees soon buckled underneath him and he fell to a kneeling position, hardly restraining a pained moan as his probably-shattered kneecap exploded in agony again. His entire skull was throbbing, too, and blood was now streaming steadily from his right shoulder. His fleshy hand trembled uncontrollably as he used it to apply pressure to the socket.

Suddenly, a shadow of blue overtook his vision and he sputtered at the realization that Metal was still _fucking_ kicking. Sonic had no time to react before a hand of icy steel snapped back around his neck and pulled him into the air, squeezing harshly.

“ _You’ve brought this upon yourself, you insolent hedgehog,_ ” his doppelganger sneered, as it slowly pulled out a large shard of glass from the top of its head. “ _But do not worry. As soon as the Phantom Ruby shard is embedded into you, you will no longer be able to resist our power._ ”

Sonic clawed desperately at the metal hand that tightened around his airway, barely choking out a muted “what the hell?” in confusion, despite the darkness creeping up on him. _What did that mean? What shard?_

Before he could do anything else, though, Metal stabbed the glass piece into his side in one swift motion. It—It wasn’t as deep as the last time he’d been stabbed, in the junkyard. But he could vaguely register the splatter of blood spray from his throat, as his body went starkly cold. He—He couldn’t breathe at all, anymore, he couldn’t think straight. His knee and his arm were both on fire, a-and the glass—the glass felt like it was sapping away all the blood left in his body. Despite the numbness that crawled across his limp form, he registered a trail of crimson sap pouring down from the wound.

Metal proceeded to unceremoniously drop the writhing hedgehog to the ground, its piercing gaze merciless as it glared at him. Sonic yelped as his leg bent from the force of the fall and his knee cracked, another spear of pain rocketing up his thigh. He landed on his back, and the gushing blood from the stab wound quickly began to pool around him.

Steel claws wrapping around his ankle, the robot began to drag him across the asphalt. And, dazedly, it took the hero a while to realize what was happening. As his mind caught up to the situation, he started grunting and kicking, trying to get away. The pavement was rough against his skin and left scrapes along his body.

“Mmph—lemme go, ya’… you hunk of garb’ge…” he slurred out, concussion getting the best of him. He clawed uselessly at every little piece of debris that could stop Metal from pulling him any further.

He was fucked. They were—they were gonna put the Phantom _-whatever_ in him, and who even _knew_ what effects that would reap. They were gonna be ruthless. Because Infinite was gonna be pissed.

Metal didn’t even look over its shoulder as it snapped, “ _Be quiet, or you will only make this worse for yourself._ ”

Sonic moaned out helplessly as a piece of rubble dug into his right arm socket, eliciting another jolt of pain. “ _Please,_ ” he half-sobbed, “I… I can’t go back there…”

In response, the mech only tensed its grip around his ankle, steel fingertips digging into his flesh. Consciousness quickly fleeting, the azure mobian could do nothing more than whimper softly, as his vision turned gray and fuzzy.

It was all slipping away so fast, that he barely caught a glimpse of the burst of white light a few meters away, the silhouette of a strangely familiar hedgehog emerging from it, before everything was drowned out by the ringing in his ears and the darkness in his vision.

* * *

“Knuckles, wait!”

Her heart leaping into her throat, Amy grabbed the echidna’s hand and pulled him to a stop. He teetered just before the edge of a cliff, and she internally sighed in relief knowing he was safe, now. For a few seconds, the pair could only stand there in a strange state of shock, muscles still throbbing from their sprint through the woods, and heavy breaths breaking the uneasy silence.

The roar of engines in the distance was drawing closer, rekindling the sense of urgency in the ruby guardian. Swallowing thickly, he glanced around the area, searching for some sort of escape. And, in the back of his head, it vaguely registered that he was still holding the hedgehog’s hand—and, yes, maybe it should’ve been a little awkward, given what had just happened between them only a few minutes ago, but… It was oddly comfortable. At the very least, she wasn’t pulling away either.

Amy stepped a bit closer to the drop, peering over the edge. “Hey, look. It’s not actually that steep. Come on.”

The bubblegum warrior crouched down, before hopping down it like it was some sort of slide at a playground. She skidded down the slope about ten or so meters before finding herself in a strange pit of sorts. Knuckles followed her down warily.

“So, what—”

“Knuckles,” she suddenly gasped, staring across the ditch in awe. “ _Look._ ”

Frowning just slightly in confusion, he followed her gaze. Amethyst orbs quickly settled on what he assumed he was looking for, and a stupid grin spread across his muzzle.

_The Master Emerald._

With newfound elation, the two darted forwards, almost forgetting about their pursuers. As they approached the gargantuan gem, though, their joy started to ebb away. Amy came to a stop about a foot away from it, but Knuckles dared to get a bit closer, hovering his mitts over its surface.

“What’s…” the girl murmured, “What’s wrong with it?”

The echidna’s lips twitched, and he furrowed his brows in concern. “… I don’t know.”

He wasn’t exactly sure what had happened to the emerald, just that it was wrong. There were miniscule fissures running all along its once pristine surface, and a few small clusters of some alien, red crystal was scattered across it. The Master was propped up on some tiny cement pedestal, and various black wires snaked out from it, running back up the sides of the pit. Honing in on its energy, Knuckles could sense something unstable stirring beneath its surface. It… It _wasn’t right._

Amy piped up, “Uh—hey, Knuckles? We’ve got a problem.”

With slight reluctance, the echidna turned back to face her, about to ask just _what_ could be more important than _this,_ when his heart stopped. All along the perimeter of the crater, a swarm of motobugs glared down at the duo. Hovering up above was a squadron of rather angry-looking buzz bombers. _Looks like they found them._

“Shit,” he grumbled, anxiety building in his gut as the motobugs began to rev their engines challengingly. They were outnumbered by a _lot._ Hastily, Knuckles whipped back around, starting to rip off the chords hooked up to the base of the Master Emerald. “Amy, hold them off for me—I gotta get this out of here.”

Conjuring her piko hammer with a flick of her wrist, the hedgehog nodded affirmatively. “Don’t worry about me, I got this.”

Just in time, the insect-like bots surrounding them began to speed down the slopes of the ditch and rain down a barrage bullets from above. Clenching her mallet tighter, Amy cried out in fury and charged straight for the swarm of machines.

In the midst of the chaos, the guardian knelt down before the mystical gem, his gaze chary and worried. He inhaled deeply through his nose, hovering his hands just above its surface. He could feel the raw heat of it, wild and dangerous, and it gave him goose-bumps. Whatever had happened to the Master, it had been horrible.

“Just let me in. I want to help you,” he whispered to it. With a deep exhale out through his mouth, Knuckles closed his eyes and eased his mitts onto the emerald.

Immediately, his vision was flooded with a bright, fiery red light.


	5. cacophony

**V.**

_cacophony (kəˈkäfənē)_

_[noun]_

_an incongruous or chaotic mixture._

* * *

The red light was relentless for a while, before it subsided a bit and gave way to a black, empty space that seemed to stretch out for an eternity. It was nearly impossible to pick up on, but beneath the muted fog of crimson, there was a slight greenish hue surrounding him.

Sparks of unseen energy crackled along his arms and legs, sending an endless stream of slight tremors across his form, as though he’d ingested too much caffeine. There was a constant buzz in his head, and a strange hyperawareness of absolutely everything was assaulting his brain. It was difficult to focus on any distinct thought; everything seemed to run in fast-motion. Off in the distance, he saw glimmers of gold, which he honestly couldn’t distinguish from stars or power rings.

The echidna figured the latter, given the familiar feeling of electricity pumping in his blood. The Chaos energy was recognizable enough to him—he could still somewhat discern the whispers of the Master Emerald, despite how hushed they were—and yet that same, unstable power persisted.

Everything felt more manic. The Special Zone normally brought with it clarity, flushing away all the toxins and corruptions plaguing the user’s mind. But the red fog, however vague, permeated the entire space and made him feel like he was underwater; cold, detached, stuck. It was all so murky, making the mobian feel more stressed than rejuvenated.

A rising fear clenched his stomach, trying to grab hold of his reeling mind. He was taking it all in too fast, the energy was so intense it burned his skin, sucked the breath right out of him. This was—This was _so wrong,_ and he needed to figure out how to fix it _now._

“Knuckles,” a voice murmured, just barely audible amongst the raw, alien energy that buzzed incessantly in his ears.

He knew that voice. He _knew_ it. Hastily, the echidna whipped his head around, squinting past the red haze, trying to pinpoint the spirit he searched for. Amethyst orbs eventually settled on the just barely tangible silhouette of another echidna.

“Tikal!” he cried, trying to reach forwards. But he felt immobilized, drifting by with no control over his movements. “Tikal, what’s happening?!”

The distant figure seemed like it was fading by the second. “I don’t have long, Knuckles. And soon, your realm won’t either. You must hurry.”

“ _What?_ ” His eyes widened in bewilderment.

“I don’t fully understand what is happening,” Tikal said, her muted words snaking into his ears. “Some foreign entity has latched onto the Master Emerald. It is devouring her positive energy like a parasite, and throwing the Forces of Chaos out of balance. It won’t be long before she collapses completely.”

Knuckles couldn’t conjure any coherent response, and settled on a _“fuck”_ that felt numb against his tongue. _Was this real? Was he dreaming?_

“What—” he stammered, feeling tingly all over as his heart pounded against his ribcage like a wild animal, “What happens when the Master collapses?”

Tikal’s presence was fading fast, and the guardian was desperate for her to stay. And at that, it was unbearable to think how draining it must’ve been for her to be constantly fending off whatever parasitic monster had decided to cause all of this, whilst maintaining a corporeal form and speaking to him.

“I-I can’t stay much longer, Knuckles. Just know it will reign down destruction on Mobius, even the universe, if it does.”

This was insane. This was ludicrous. This—This couldn’t—This wasn’t _possible._

He—He had to get out, he had to find the others, so they could find a way to stop this. Before it got worse, before they ran out of time, before Eggman got his hands on it again.

Was this all some experiment of the doctor’s? It had been hooked up to that plethora of cables, and whatever the red crystallization was, it was no natural formation. Nanobots? Some crazy concoction of a virus? Tails would have been able to figure it out, probably.

Maybe it was related to that—to that _thing,_ on Infinite’s chest. The jackal’s red gem bared a nearly uncanny resemblance to the clusters of ruby strewn about the Master. And they still had yet to really deduce the properties of his strange jewel.

Really, the possibilities were endless. And it was stressing the ever living fuck out of Knuckles.

The hot flashes came quickly, and the remnants of oxygen still in the atmosphere of the Special Zone were thin and scarce; his breathing quickly became strained. The red seemed to grow more intense, and heat crawled up his skin like a beast with nothing but the unadulterated need to finish off its prey.

Knuckles wheezed, squeezing his eyes shut. He could do it. There was still Chaos Energy here, regardless of how corrupted it was. _If he could just—_

Sharp pain struck him right through the center of his chest, his eyesight turning so bright it hurt. He cried out in agony, ruthless heat rippling across his body and stabbing into his pores. The ringing in his ears was growing louder by the second.

He tried _—_ he _tried—_ so hard to concentrate on Chaos Control, but he just—he could barely breathe, the energy was too hyperactive, he couldn’t—

The blaring vision of a pair of eyes, disconnected and cold, one a deep blue and the other a bright gold, flashed before him.

Knuckles passed out before he could even get another breath in.

* * *

_He just needed to go back._

_He just needed to go back._

_To the moment where everything went wrong._

Warmth spread across his body as sensations like smell and taste and hearing returned to him, and suddenly Silver could breathe again.

Frankly, the world he was greeted to wasn’t much better than where he was a few minutes ago, before he was trapped in the Null, when he’d been wandering the streets of that fucked up dystopian future. Everything still looked to be in shambles like before, complete with toppled buildings and abandoned, rusted vehicles, and he had no doubt that the distant sound of shifting metal belonged to even more lurking Egg Pawns or the like.

The psychic sucked in a breath, closing his eyes after his brief once-over of the city, focusing on himself. The pungency of smog wafted around him; a dry, sour taste lingered on his tongue; aside from the metal clanging nearby, everything was deathly silent, like all of life had ceased to exist. There was a horrible fear in the pit of his stomach that wondered if that was true, before he reminded himself that this had to be the past, that it couldn’t be any worse than that future with the maniacal dog.

Silver peeled open his eyes again, and they instantly locked onto the boggling sight no more than a hundred feet ahead of him.

It was Metal Sonic, that much he could confirm, trudging down the street and completely oblivious of his presence. It sported quite a few dents and scratches and fissures, but more unsettlingly, blood was splattered across it. The liquid still looked a little fresh, and it sent shudders down the time-traveler’s spine.

And as his gaze trailed downwards, he noticed the mech was dragging along some mass of blue fur, also sporting some blotches of carmine. It didn’t take long for Silver’s mind to connect the dots, and if he weren’t so used to the constant violence in his life then he probably would have retched.

_Sonic._

There was a gut instinct to run forwards and help his friend, before apprehension trickled into his bloodstream and his feet became glued to the asphalt. Because as far as he knew, it could be the same twisted version of the blue blur he’d encountered only moments ago, from the distant future. The one that didn’t seem to have a mind of his own, the one that would try and kill him if he caught sight of him again.

Squinting his eyes, the psychic ran a keen inspection of the pair of doppelgangers, searching for a certain robotic arm or red gem, particularly.

Sure enough, Sonic’s right arm glinted violet in the hazy sunlight, as it dragged limply on the ground. Something squirmed uncomfortably in Silver’s stomach, recalling his previous battle.

But if—if this was _the moment,_ the moment his Chaos Control had brought him to, where everything changed and they stood a change at saving the world, then… Was it just too late to ever save Sonic?

The time-traveler’s heart sank, as he eyed Metal and the unconscious hedgehog with a crestfallen look. Sonic was his friend, and—and he felt horrible thinking he couldn’t save him. It wasn’t—Chaos, this was so fucked up. Silver _had_ to save him. Somehow. He was the only one who could.

Without another moment’s hesitation, the hero started forwards, pushing past his fatigue with headstrong determination. He threw out an open palm, smirking as teal light wrapped around Metal’s legs. The navy blue bot froze, digits twitching unnervingly before it swiveled its head to meet Silver’s eyes. Those cutthroat red optics always made his blood run cold.

The machine released its grip on Sonic’s ankle, and his leg fell to the ground inelegantly, just as flaccid as the rest of his body. Now that Silver was closer, he noticed the lack of a ruby jewel embedded in the hedgehog’s chest, and hoped that was a good sign. But he knew he couldn’t dwindle on his worries for Sonic, electing to focus on taking out Metal before anything else.

Legs still locked in place, the bot pivoted its torso around almost one-hundred-eighty degrees, aiming its chest-cannon right for the sprinting psychic. Silver gasped as its frame exploded with light, diving to the side just in time to miss a giant laser, heat exuding from it in waves. The way it practically burned his side, despite being a foot away, planted this nasty though in his mind that he’d be a pile of ashes right now if he hadn’t moved in time.

Metal cocked its head, lifeless stare piercing straight through Silver. It began charging up its laser again, still immobilized by his psychokinesis, and with that the hero sacrificed his hold on the bot to fling his hand to his right and seize an abandoned car.

A film of turquoise spread across the automobile, and the hedgehog swiftly flung his hand back in the direction of the robot, watching in satisfaction as it slammed full-force into the lithe thing, causing it to soar backwards.

The car tumbled to a stop as Silver released it, jogging up to Metal, which was plastered against the cement wall of a building. Its optics were dimmed, flickering on and off, and its limbs convulsed uncontrollably. It struggled to lift up an arm, as it floundered fruitlessly in attempt to grab him.

Silver planted one hand down against its shoulder pad, using the other to envelop a teal coat of energy around its head. Pushing hard against its body to keep it from flying away with it, the time-traveler flicked his wrist up, watching satisfactorily as Metal’s skull yanked right off from its shoulders. The head arced through the air before landing unceremoniously a few feet away.

Releasing his grip on the beheaded machine, it collapsed on the ground in a heap of steel and circuitry. Silver sniffed, swabbing a thumb at his nose and turning to walk back towards the unconscious hedgehog across the street that he could only describe as an enigma.

He knelt beside Sonic, scanning his injuries. A bit of blood seeped out from the seam between his prosthetic and torso, and more of it spilled out from where a shard of glass was stabbed into him, just to the left of his abdomen. The blue blur’s leg was also twisted a bit awkwardly at the knee, and it made Silver cringe.

Part of him hissed, _leave him to die, he’s only going to wake up and try to murder you again—_ but the other cut in, _no, he’s your friend, help him._

Silver sighed, and bowed his head close to Sonic’s, pressing two fingers against his throat to feel for a pulse and hovering an ear near his mouth to listen for a breath. He could deduce that he was breathing _(thank Chaos)_ , albeit shallowly.

Frantically, he proceeded to scan the area, in search of anything or anyone that could help—but the streets were deserted, and all the stores lining the streets were emptied and locked up. Reluctantly, Silver settled on pulling off Sonic’s gloves. After unraveling the cuffs and tying the ends of them together, the garments were surprisingly long enough to pull around the blue blur’s waist. He did so, being careful to tear a hole that fit around the piece of glass jutting out of him, before tying it into place. Silver grimaced as red immediately sapped into the gloves, before starting to apply pressure around the wound. He figured it’d be safer to leave the glass in for now, as it stemmed the blood.

That issue taken care of for the time being, the psychic set his eyes on Sonic’s leg, bent in that chillingly unnatural position. The knee was already swelling up, and he could see some purple beneath the speedster’s azure fur.

Inhaling sharply, Silver took a film hold of the leg, starting to push in back into place. He cringed as Sonic subconsciously squirmed and grunted from the mere pain, but continued to bend the leg back to normal. When it looked to be relatively alright, the time-traveler still flicked his hand up in the air, keeping his eyes trained on his friend, as he absentmindedly grabbed a stray newspaper with his powers and lured it to them.

Silver curled the newspaper around Sonic’s leg, hoping the stiff wad of paper would be enough to act as a makeshift splint for the time being.

With an exhausted huff, the ivory hedgehog lifted up the other with his psychokinesis, dragging his limp body through the air alongside himself as he sped down the deserted street. He had to find some shelter, and possibly _(hopefully)_ some first-aid supplies. But hasty searches through the vacant shops throughout the city only provided him an old rag, which he used for extra pressure around the glass shard, and a nearly empty bottle of pain-relievers. It wasn’t much, but maybe it’d help Sonic last a few more days till they found something better.

His mind a haze, unsure what else to make of all this, Silver pulled the unconscious Sonic to the outskirts of the city, into some woods, accompanied with nothing else but his disjointed thoughts.

* * *

_Honey eyes scanned the room, feeling strangely on edge despite the familiar hominess of the atmosphere. Oxygen felt thick and heavy as it traveled down his throat. It all felt too congested and humid; he could feel the sweat clinging to his fur._

_There was something off about this. Everything was a little too pristine, with its perfectly made beds, and the organized papers on his desk. His college dorm was always a mess, always so cluttered, and it just didn’t—_

_“Gadget?” a voice wondered from the other side of the door, accompanied with a light knock. “Are you there?”_

_With a sharp gasp, the wolf whipped around faster than he thought was physically possibly, lunging for the door as the world tilted. At some point the air had acquired a musty haze, tinted like he was stuck in a black and white movie. His lungs groped wildly for another breath, and Gadget struggled to focus._

_That was—that was_ his _voice. He didn’t think he’d heard that voice in months._

_The crimson male swung the door open as soon as he was able to get a hold of the handle, fingertips burning as though there was some untamed flame licking at his nerves from the inside. Everything seemed too tight, too murky, too excruciating, and it was difficult for him to keep his eyes trained on the door._

_But when he opened it, Gadget was greeted to an endless, dark hallway._

_It wasn’t—It wasn’t right, he_ heard _him, he_ knew _he was there, that voice was_ unmistakable—

_“Gadget,” he heard again, louder and painful this time as it pounded against his eardrums. The wolf startled, teetering backwards as he swung around again. His stomach turned sickeningly, and he felt so irrationally scared—he was here, he was home, but it felt like he was drifting through open space, forever lost and never to see a glimpse of the earth again._

_As he faced his dorm again, the canine’s gaze locked onto a pair of mismatched eyes, so empty and broken, yet so vivid that he nearly threw up. One eye was colored blue, gentle and watery and pale, a strange film lain on top of it; the other was a shimmering gold, almost enchantingly wicked and vibrant. For that the eyes were so—so unnatural and disconcerting to Gadget, and yet he recognized them regardless. The face they belonged to was so dissonant, like it was stuck in this constant battle of apathy and affliction._

_The wolf tried to utter his name, but his tongue felt like cotton and his vocal chords were severed. But it was_ him, _undoubtedly, no matter how much his body refused to voice his words._

Zero.

_“Gadget,” the jackal echoed once more, sounding like a broken record at this point. There was something dwindling in his clashing eyes, something he couldn’t quite place. Something that of disappointment, maybe. “Stop.”_

_Stop_ what, _he tried to ask, but it felt like a wall had built itself in his throat, blocking it off completely. He felt helpless, and the raging heat beneath his fingertips was growing more ravenous by the second, sending his heart rate skyrocketing. Gadget blinked slowly, losing his balance as he tried fruitlessly to overcome the vertigo slamming into him._

_“Stop.”_

_His head was spinning, and suddenly the wolf was hyperaware of how carmine painted the walls, how it pooled around his feet, thick and sludgy and sucking him further down. Gadget tried to get away, close his eyes, but there was too much blood and he felt like it was going to drown him._

Their _bodies were scattered about the room, nothing more than ragdolls, their eyes glassy and vacant. All his friends, the people he’d bonded with, come to care for, the ones that stayed with him despite the wars waging outside, that hid with him in the dormitories and made this hell tolerable. Gone. Forever._

_Gadget found he couldn’t tear his eyes from them all, strewn about the room, blank stares locked onto him. The blood was seeping into his shoes, and it felt sticky against his feet. Everything was so grainy and faraway, now, the saturation drained away, like he was watching through a screen. The walls were closing in._

_“Gadget, stop,” Zero murmured again, his voice a gradual crescendo of ferocity. His dark ash fur and alabaster dreadlocks were now stained in the deep red sap that was flooding the room._

_And suddenly the walls gained eyes, thousands of them, unending and piercing in their stares, blinding the red male. He couldn’t see anything other than the intense glow of teal opticals stabbing through him, and Zero’s discordant face, his watery blue eye and thunderous yellow one. It made Gadget want to cry._

_The walls were nearing, morphing into metallic orange and gaining arms, the Egg Pawns all swarming him, overtaking the entire room, suffocating him. Blood was splattered across them as they marched forwards, merciless and dutiful and lethal. Metal hands grabbed at the wolf, yanking at his limbs, and he found he could do nothing more but scream. The blood was everywhere. They were going to kill him, they were going to kill him, just like the others. He was going to die. They were going to kill him._

_And Zero’s gaze was unwavering amongst the flurry of machines closing in on him. He wanted to speak, he wanted to kick and cry, he wanted Zero to save him; but the jackal just shook his head, watching indolently as the wolf flailed helplessly, his life being sucked away._

_“Stop running, Gadget. Stop running.”_

Wakefulness came to him suddenly and agonizingly, leaving the wolf throwing out his arms in defense and gasping heavily for air. It felt like he’d just breached the surface after being stuck underwater for too long, cold and trapped and oxygen-deprived.

“Hey,” a young voice said, eliciting a flinch from him. Clementine fur flanked his left, and it took a moment for his eyes to focus on the figure and register in his mind who it was. “You alright?”

Gadget took a moment to calm himself, taking greedy breaths and wiping the sweat from his forehead. What the hell was that? It had to be one of the most horrific things he’d ever seen, with all the—all the blood, and—and _Zero._ He hadn’t seen _his_ face—so vividly, too—in _months._ Hastily, he wiped the moisture from his eyes before any tears could spill.

What did it even mean? _Stop running?_ From what? Why was Zero telling him that? And his eyes—they’d always been like that, one blue and one yellow, but there was something so haunting about them, like—like a war was waging beneath them. It made Gadget’s blood run cold just thinking about it; he didn’t think he’d be able to sleep again after that.

_(No rest for the wicked, huh?)_

“Yeah,” he finally answered, sounding rather unsure. “… Just a bad dream.”

Miles’ gaze held an air of dubiety, like he could tell just from the look on the older one’s face that it had clearly been a lot more than just a simple _bad dream,_ but opted not to say anything.

Instead, the fox ventured, “Wanna come help me gather some supplies?”

Furrowing his brows, Gadget stood up from the sleeping bag, rolling his shoulders and stretching out his arms and neck. He could still feel himself trembling from the nightmare.

“Aren’t there plenty of supplies in here?” he wondered, surveying box-filled room as if to confirm to himself that they were still there.

The kit was already shrugging on his knapsack, the hilt to his electric Wispon in hand. “This is all food. We gotta find some more medical stuff; gauze and pain-killers would be nice. Besides, sometimes I’ll come across something really useful, like batteries or something.”

Gadget conceded, and trailed after the two-tailed boy silently.

As the pair headed back up the spiraling stairs, pulling the bookcase aside and following the aberrant pathway back to the front door of the empty shop, the wolf’s thoughts began to derail.

All he could focus on was Zero, how jarring the dream had been, how vexed he felt. He hadn’t—he hadn’t seen Zero since before Eggman took over. He’d just… disappeared, one night, leaving behind nothing but a ghost that had continued to haunt Gadget since. And he’d tried moving on, really. Tried to accept that the jackal was probably dead, but he just _—he couldn’t get him out of his head._

And all his friends—how ruthlessly the Egg Pawns had slaughtered them, had deluged his home _—his sanity—_ with their _blood,_ it… Chaos, he was gonna be sick.

The boys stepped into the deserted Westopolis, the warmth of the early afternoon sun spreading from their faces across their bodies. The stagnant, quiet atmosphere was dizzyingly off-putting.

Miles paused, assessing the area as he placed a hand on his hip. “Let’s head over there, first.”

With an absent nod, the wolf began to follow after him.

They didn’t make it very far before a colossal shadow fell over them, though, the hum of an engine looming above. The missiles struck the ground around them before Gadget could even blink.

* * *

As much as his fantasies had seemed to glorify it, being king of the world really was rather exhausting.

Eggman sighed heavily, soreness pinching the region between his shoulder blades as he hunched over his desk, sagging eyes glazed from doing nothing but staring at computer screens all day. Managing supply exports was such a hassle, on top of having to sort out the optimal locations to store their… recent acquisitions.

He had to admit, despite their differences, that Infinite was really quite brilliant. He’d been able to capture Shadow with ease; seizing his emeralds was like taking candy from a baby, after that. The sedative they used was certainly tricky to concoct, and could only be produced in unfortunately small quantities, but it was definitely a recipe he’d keep in mind for the future.

Aside from the exultation of simply obtaining another three Chaos emeralds, however, just about everything else going on was giving him a headache.

The emperor grumbled incoherently to himself, typing away on his keyboard as he sent out more commands and codes to the various databases he had set up across the globe. After all, he was the first true ruler of the entire planet, and henceforth was the first to have to figure out how exactly to maintain his control. And for a mechanic who focused primarily on robots, he ironically felt as though he lacked enough for the job—surely he shouldn’t be having to manage all of this on his own, right? He should be kicking back right now, relishing in this life.

Mentally, he made a note to start making more robots that could help him with these menial tasks—which were currently the primary perpetrators for his incessant headaches.

There were, of course, other issues, though.

For one, there was that damned resistance. They were small and barely clinging on—with a little elbow grease, he could probably snuff out the rest of them—but they were certainly rather stubborn.

And just another problem to add on his mountain of them, there’s _Infinite._ Sure, he was a great fighter, immensely powerful and surprisingly astute, _but._ All that cleverness and powerful also led to him being rather… fractious. And that trait, in itself, certainly didn’t mix well with Eggman’s own audacious self.

He found it rather absurd, really. The man had _saved_ him, all those months ago, after he’d been mugged and fatally injured, doing nothing but losing time and blood as his life faded away in the alleyway late at night. That damn dog should’ve been _grateful_ for him! Grateful that the tyrant had been searching for a test subject for the ruby, grateful that he just so happened to find him and scrape him off the pavement, grateful that he gave him the most amazing gift anybody could give one: unlimited power.

 _“Doctor,”_ hissed a baritone voice through the speakers on his computer, from a signal somewhere in Holoska.

The mad scientist groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose to try and alleviate his pounding head; it didn’t do much to help at all. _Well, speak of the devil._

He pressed the button on his mic, temporarily closing out of all the files opened up on his monitor to focus on a grainy image of a certain jackal, standing in a dimly lit room.

“Is there a problem?”

Despite his face being concealed by his silver mask, Infinite was clearly exasperated. _“There is a huge problem, yes.”_

Eggman slumped in his seat, exhaustion setting in his shoulders and craned neck. All he wanted was a damn nap, not a conversation that was sure to overstay its welcome and be filled to the brim with bickering—which seemed to be the case just about every time he spoke to Infinite. “Care to fill me in?”

 _“Well, do you want the bad news, or the worse news?”_ the jackal snapped. The Phantom Ruby on his chest could be seen glowing just a bit brighter, a bit warmer, just as agitated as its host, even through the grainy image.

The human drummed his fingers restlessly on his desk. “I suppose the worst of the two, first.”

_“The Master Emerald is missing.”_

Eggman just about choked. That was… certainly a big problem. Taking a moment to recompose himself, he asked after a few moments in a low voice, “And what happened to it?”

Infinite cocked his head to the side. _“It seems that it has been stolen, from where we had been researching it to the north of Metal City in some woods. All reinforcements in the area are offline.”_ He leaned in a bit to the camera, yellow eye dangerous and spiteful. _“I don’t suppose you have any guess as to who might’ve done it?”_

Throwing his head back, the doctor snarled furiously. He slammed his fists on the desk, jostling his computer. “ _Dammit!_ Just when we thought we had the upper hand over those little rodents—”

 _“We’ve still got three emeralds. Surely that’s more than how many they have,”_ the mobian cut in swiftly.

“It’s still a major loss, regardless,” Eggman bit out. His patience was running _really_ thin with Infinite. “We were—dammit, all of that research with the Phantom Ruby just went down the drain.”

_“What about our records?”_

“It’s all useless!” the scientist roared, heat rising up his face. “We were barely scraping the surface of its implications! We barely started! Who _knows_ how its power will continue to affect the Master? And who knows how that stupid resistance will tamper with it? For all we know, they’ll figure out how to reverse its effects!”

Infinite crossed his arms. _“They aren’t smart enough to even begin to fathom the Ruby’s power, let alone counteract it. Besides, I scared off the only remotely intelligent one months ago—that little boy. They won’t have a clue of what to do.”_

“You better hope they don’t,” grumbled the man. He let out a long breath, waving to his associate half-mindedly. “I’ll start looking into what we can do to get the emerald back. In the meantime, what’s the other bad news?”

The jackal hesitated a moment, and in that pause Eggman wished more than anything that he could read his mind. He had practically created Infinite, from that pathetic husk of a dog, and yet he continued to elude him. Infinite was a puzzle that he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to decipher.

_“Metal went offline.”_

Eggman bit his tongue, promptly flinching at the tinny flavor it elicited.

The pair of tyrants found themselves stuck in an uneasy silence. Infinite watched warily as the doctor’s expression dulled for a few moments, the cogs in his head undoubtedly turning.

“… So,” the human began, quieter than before. “Sonic got away. Which means it won’t be long before he finds his little friends. And once he’s reunited with them—”

 _“They’re going to become a lot more fearsome,”_ the mobian finished, sounding equally resigned. They were really getting backed into a corner, now, huh? _“Lucky for us, we’ve got a plan B. I already filmed the ransom video with that pathetic excuse for an Ultimate Lifeform.”_

“And how do you expect to get it to them? Wherever their hideout is, it’s off the grid. We don’t even know if they have access to technology.”

Infinite chuckled coyly, his visible eye wandering. _“You forget we’ve got one of theirs, doctor.”_

Eggman narrowed his gaze. “Shadow used to work for G.U.N. There’s no way you could get him to tell you anything. You’d be surprised how loyal he is.”

_“That’s true, yes. But you also forget he’s currently so drugged up he can’t think straight. I was able to get him to tell me the channel they use for their communicators, and with some more snooping around, I found an IP address for one of their computers. I’ll send the video to that.”_

The obese man grinned. “Clever boy.” He paused, contemplating. “Why haven’t you sent it yet?”

With a shrug, the other simply said, _“I want to make sure Sonic will be there to see it. Metal only went offline an hour ago; I doubt he’s found the resistance yet.”_

“Send it in the next forty-eight hours,” Eggman ordered, a little disgruntled again. He had already minimized the tab with the jackal’s camera, continuing his prior work and only paying half his attention to the other. “The sedative we’ve administered in Shadow won’t last much longer, and I don’t want to play sitting ducks while he gains the strength to break out. In the meantime, start searching for leads on the Master Emerald. And also—those emerald shipments better be going smoothly. They need to be locked up in their secure locations ASAP.”

Infinite sighed mild annoyance, gritting out, _“Sure, anything else?”_

“ _No,_ that’s all. You’re dismissed,” the doctor sneered. And, yes, he did realize that although he minimized his view of the other, the mobian most definitely saw that. But, to be quite frank, he didn’t care.

There was a slight pause, and for a moment the man wondered if he was about to receive some backtalk, when the video feed finally cut off. Although, that seemed to express Infinite’s annoyance far more than another snide comment would’ve ever been able to accomplish.

Eggman let out a long, tired groan, slumping in his seat.

He had a lot of work to do.


	6. beleaguer

**VI.**

_beleaguer (bəˈlēɡər)_

_[verb]_

_to beset with difficulties._

* * *

It took a while for Sonic to regain his consciousness. Cotton seemed to wrap around his head and plug his ears; no matter how many times he blinked and rubbed his eyes, his vision refused to focus; a constant stream of dull pain pulsated across his limp body.

When he finally gained his bearings—for the most part, anyway—the hedgehog found himself confused and lost. He was shrouded in darkness, stalks of trees looming around him like the prelude of a lion pride’s feast. His chest felt strangely tight, and each breath elicited only another wince of pain. Fruitlessly, he attempted to sit up against the tree trunk to his back, but his muscles groaned in protest at the movement, and he yielded.

As hearing began to return to him, Sonic became aware of the snaps and flickers of a dwindling flame before him. Blinking a few more times and sniffling, a warm glow overtook his left vision. He glanced over to see a campfire, low and steady, crackling in the middle of the small clearing he lay in. He embraced the heat it radiated welcomingly, humming lowly in the back of his throat and trying to close his eyes again.

The headache pressing to his temples was utterly agonizing, and if he could just—just take a quick nap…

“You’re up,” a stranger said, their voice startlingly young. Sonic groaned tiredly, trying to crack open his eyes again to get a good look at them. His fuzzy vision began to fail him, before a figure suddenly came into view, inches away from him, and a teal light swarmed his eyesight.

A hand pressed itself to his forehead, and the blue blur immediately sighed in relief as the agony rippling across his body let up, and his senses tuned in more. Now everything wasn’t so muffled, and he could see more clearly. The pain was numbed considerably.

Emerald eyes trailed upwards, before locking onto gold.

“Silver!” he rasped, startling. The speedster shifted back to eye his friend in a more comfortable position.

“I fed you some of my Chaos energy. Hopefully it’ll help with the pain.”

 _Definitely._ A smile traced Sonic’s face—although it began to fall when the psychic did not return the same genial look.

The ivory hedgehog then crouched down, resting his arms on his knees, watching Sonic keenly as though he were some science experiment. Skepticism and a grim steeliness pooled in his wide eyes.

Eventually, Silver murmured, “So, you’re really Sonic?”

He blinked. “Uh, yeah. Last time I checked, anyways.”

Amber orbs cascaded down to his prosthetic arm. A whiplash of painful memories slammed full-force into the cerulean hero, from his imprisonment to the surgery to Metal, and Sonic squirmed uncomfortably under the stare. This—this arm, it wasn’t him. It wasn’t his arm. It was wrong and it didn’t belong and he wanted it _off._

Seeming to note the unease marring the other’s face, the time-traveler said, “Last time I saw you, it didn’t seem to be the case, so.”

That didn’t help at all.

Sonic rose a brow. “Okay, Silv? Buddy? You’ve got some explaining to do.”

Huffing in frustration, the younger hedgehog plopped down on the ground and sat adjacent to him, just a few feet away. He drew his knees to his chest, hugging his legs and letting his gaze fall to the ground.

“I don’t even know where to begin.”

“Okay…” Searching the area, the injured hero swallowed thickly. He was dying of thirst, and he’d kill for a nice bed right about now. “… How about we start with the basics. How’d we get here? Last thing I remember was fighting Metal back in the city, and then…”

“And then, he beat you,” Silver filled in, finally meeting his gaze. “I think that’s when I arrived. I was able to take down Metal Sonic, and from there I patched you up the best I could and led us here—there were too many robots back there.”

Sonic let his head fall back on the ground, gazing up at the stars. Despite the smog drifting above, he could still catch speckles of starlight beaming down. “Alright, that’s good. One killer robot, down. But how’d you get here in the first place?”

“Well,” the psychic began, “It’s a lot. I guess it started after your birthday party—”

“The one with younger me?”

“Yeah. And the future I went to was… Sorta like this, but worse.”

Frowning, the speedster turned to send a cocked brow the other’s way. “What could be worse than this?”

“Try everyone being enslaved and ten times as many robots.”

Sonic hummed thoughtfully at that, and clammed up.

“Anyways,” Silver continued, watching the fire ebb away absentmindedly. The glow of the embers lit up the golden flecks in his eyes, chasing away the shadows that normally cloaked his true thoughts and feelings. He was only a year or two younger than Sonic, but he always seemed so much more innocent; undeserving of the fate he’d been handed.

“I followed this weird, negative-energy source and it led me to this huge base. And then—and then I fought this crazy dog guy, and then _you,_ but you were—” he licked his lips quickly, “—you had the robot arm you have now, except it was all old and rusty. And there was this freaky red gem stuck in the middle of your chest, too…”

A beat of silence passed, as both hedgehogs contemplated. Something seemed to slide into place in Sonic’s head.

“Okay, two questions. First, who was the crazy dog guy?”

The alabaster hero pursed his lips. “I don’t—I think he called himself Infinite?”

Sonic let out a long sigh. “Shit. Okay, second question—what was the ‘freaky red gem’?”

“Um… I dunno, but both you and the Infinite guy had it on your chest. I think maybe it made you immortal? Because you were, like, decaying and half-dead. But I’m not sure.”

“And I fought you?” the speedster inquired. “Willingly? Or…”

Silver crossed his arms. “I mean, it seemed like it, but you also didn’t seem to be in your right mind. I wonder if maybe the red gem was controlling you…?”

Sonic grunted, trying to prop himself up to rest on his forearms and get a better look at Silver. Dull pain reverberated from the—the chillingly large piece of glass jutting from his chest. Oh, right, he’d almost forgotten about _that_ thing. He cringed at the blood caked around it, directing his gaze to his friend.

Seeing the distress in the blue blur’s face, the time-traveler held up a placating hand, looking tentative. “Hey—be careful, that stab wound…”

“I’m fine,” Sonic brushed off through gritted teeth, because he _was._ He wasn’t going to let Infinite and his lackeys reduce him to—to some worthless hedgehog incapable of sitting up on his own. He’d already been degraded enough for the past sixth months.

Silver frowned, before slumping against the tree; it was pointless to argue with the most stubborn guy on the planet. “So, what do you make of all this?”

Screwing up his face in concentration, the azure hero was quiet for a moment. He struggled to see past the fog lurking in his mind, trying to recall everything that happened when he escaped. Metal had been so adamant on capturing him alive, on—on doing something worse to him than they’d ever done before. He could vividly remember the raw fear coursing through his blood, the pure terror, the absolute need to _get away,_ and it sent chills down his spine.

Emerald eyes widened. “… I think that you saved me just in time.”

 _“As soon as the Phantom Ruby shard is embedded into you,”_ Metal’s words echoed through his head, _“you will no longer be able to resist our power._ ”

“Metal-Me was rambling on about how they were gonna put the ruby in me before I passed out,” Sonic elaborated, wincing at the idea of that. “I think if you hadn’t come in and rescued me, they would’ve done it, and—and I would’ve become that zombie-version of me that you saw in the future.”

Silver narrowed his eyes, contemplating the theory. “I guess it makes sense. When I used Chaos Control to get there, I focused on getting to the moment where it all went wrong—so I could try and correct it. And it took me to the city, where Metal was dragging you away.”

“Wait, you—” the blue blur’s heart skipped a beat. “ _Chaos Control?_ Do you have an emerald?”

“No,” he said. “After I fought evil-you and Infinite, they pushed me into this weird… vortex-thing? And I don’t—I can’t even begin to describe what it was like. I think it was the source of that negative energy I mentioned earlier, though.”

Sonic furrowed his brows. “Vortex-thing?”

“When I went through I was trapped in this weird void. I was lucky there was Chaos energy at all in there, because I was able to tap into it to use Chaos Control. I don’t think I’d still be here if I wouldn’t have been able too, though—It felt like the negativity was eating me alive.”

The cobalt hero tensed at that. “Fucking hell…” he murmured. “And you have no clue what that place was?”

Silver shrugged. “Not really. I think Infinite might’ve called it… the Null?”

Raising his brows and blowing out of his mouth, Sonic muttered, “Geez, that’s not creepy at all.”

“It’s your turn now,” the ivory hero suddenly said, drawing his attention again. “Who’s Infinite? And what is the ruby supposed to be, because you clearly know what it is.”

Sonic settled back onto the ground, caving to the aching pain in his abdomen. His need to get back on his feet and run would just have to wait a little longer. “Honestly, I don’t know much. Infinite is one of Eggman’s new henchmen, I guess. He’s pretty damn tough, considering he’s the one that captured me all those months ago.”

“They were holding you captive?” Silver asked in slight astonishment.

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I—I’m okay now, though. They just… hurt me a lot, and… ran a bunch of experiments and stuff.” Sonic explained quickly; he didn’t really want to get into the specifics.

As his eyes fell, a slight mist fell over them and they drifted to his prosthetic arm. The sight of it made him want to gag. “It’s what landed me with this—this stupid…” Suddenly he was hovering his flesh hand over the piece of metal, fingers trembling and a fire raging beneath emerald orbs as the urge rose in his chest to _tear it off._ The only thing that stopped him from doing so was the painful memory of when it nearly was torn off in his battle with Metal. He flinched, swallowed thickly, and let his hand fall back to the ground.

“… They just gave it to me. They had to amputate my arm off after a bad injury, and I ended up waking earlier than I was supposed to. I was able to sneak out, but then Metal followed, and… you know the rest.”

Sorrow filled the younger hedgehog’s gaze. “And… What about the ruby?”

“It’s called the Phantom Ruby,” Sonic clarified, hastily wiping his eyes. “I don’t really know much about it. Just that it’s implanted in Infinite’s chest, and it makes him crazy powerful. He can do all sorts of, uh, whaddya call em’? Apparitions? Something like that… He can make illusions a reality, and reality an illusion. It—It was strong enough to reduce Mobius to _this._ ” He gestured around them, to the thinned out woods and the crumbling city in the distance.

Silver grimaced, opening his mouth to say something else, when it abruptly snapped shut and he stiffened. Sonic frowned at him, about to ask what the problem was, but the other beat him to it by frantically pressing a finger to his lips.

There was a beat of silence, and the blue blur could feel his heartbeat reverberating across his body from anxiety. Was there somebody nearby? What was it that Silver heard? Were they in danger? Did Infinite find them?

Eventually, the ivory hedgehog started towards their dwindling campfire, and snuffed it out with a quick stomp of his boot. He crept over to Sonic, kneeling close to the ground beside him and holding up his hands defensively. Something was clearly very wrong.

“Put your hands in the air.”

At the sound of those words, Silver sprung up, teal light wrapping around his palms as he snarled ferociously in the direction of the voice, which was—annoyingly—behind where Sonic lay. He could hear footsteps closing in around them, beneath the shadows of foliage, crunching against the dried up leaves along the forest floor. His quills prickled subconsciously.

“I said, put your hands up,” the voice snapped again. It didn’t sound familiar to the cerulean hedgehog, but he had no doubt that it was hostile regardless.

Silver wavered a moment, before his scowl deepened and he bit out, “ _Fine,_ have it your way.”

The psychic thrust his hands forward, and with the action a pulse of turquoise light flung from his palms and slammed into the strangers behind Sonic. He nearly cracked a grin at the sound of them thudding against the ground.

Sonic glanced up to his friend, who was smiling giddily as psychokinetic energy danced around his fingertips, defiance and triumph brandished in his valiant gaze.

And then a dart struck the time-traveler’s shoulder, and he faltered, wobbling in place before his limbs fell limp and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Horror took hold of Sonic, and his body went on autopilot as he yanked himself up from the ground. “ _Silver!_ ”

That was clearly the wrong choice, because as soon as the speedster was standing upright a wave of vertigo slammed into him, his knee screaming in agony at him and burning pain rolling across his entire right side. The hedgehog cried out, vision overwhelmed with static gray as his muscles failed him from the pure pain. He swayed forwards, flailing helplessly for something to stabilize himself. He could vaguely hear more footsteps approaching, and he wanted to _run,_ he wanted to _fight,_ but the pain was so agonizing and his thoughts were lost in a haze of nausea.

Something sharp pricked his back, and sleep was quick to follow.

* * *

The final motobug quickly succumbed to a final swing of her hammer, reduced to nothing but scrap metal. Amy let out a long breath, wiping some sweat from her forehead, taking a few seconds to register the minor stinging sensation on her bicep. She glanced at her arm, sighing tiredly at the thin cut running along it and the trail of blood that streamed down to her fingertip and dripped lethargically on the ground; it was just another useless injury they’d have to waste more bandages on, lest she get an infection.

Amy scanned the battlefield absentmindedly, fatigue settling in her bones. Motobugs and buzz bombers were certainly no problem she couldn’t handle, but in such big numbers? It definitely took a toll on the muscles after a while.

With that, she turned on her heel to go check on Knuckles. She hoped at this point that he had been able to run for cover and protect it from the fight.

But the sight she was greeted with across the pit made her stomach flip.

“Knuckles?” she called out, jogging towards her companion. He was unconscious, sprawled across the ground, one mitt clenched tightly to the surface of the Master Emerald. The strawberry hedgehog knelt beside him, trying to pull him closer to her. Strangely enough, his hold on the Master persisted.

A befuddled frown marring her face, Amy rose up again to approach the large jewel, studying the spot where glove met emerald. Careful not to touch the Master itself, in fear that she’d fall unconscious like Knuckles, she tried prying his palm away from its surface.

It wouldn’t budge. It was like his hand was super-glued to the thing.

Forgetting about that issue for the time being, Amy knelt beside the guardian again, shaking his shoulders. “Knuckles? Can you hear me?”

She placed a finger beneath his nose, relief washing over her as she felt a small puff of air brush against it. Promptly, the hedgehog peeled open one of his eyes to see a glazed-over amethyst. He was definitely out cold.

_But why?_

Unease spreading across her, Amy stood up again and surveyed the area. It was completely deserted, save for the abundance of badnik carcasses, not a single sound permeating the atmosphere aside from a light breeze that bristled the treetops.

Her ideas warred for a while in her head, stuck in a confliction between staying with Knuckles and going to find help. The latter eventually won out, and Amy reluctantly scrambled towards the wall of the ditch, starting to crawl up the side to reach ground-level again.

She wasn’t sure she had ever run as fast as she did before as she made her way back to the campsite. Not even back when she’d try and catch Sonic, when she’d been foolishly infatuated with him, back when they were kids without worries looming over their heads like heavy rainclouds.

As soon as the warrior reached the clearing, she snagged the walkie-talkie from the ground and did a complete one-eighty, veering around and dashing back towards the pit.

“Rouge? Are you there?” she managed to say into the communicator between gasps of air.

There was a moment’s pause, before, _“Oh my Chaos, Amy, are you okay?! You’ve been MIA for a long time, we thought—”_

“We’re okay,” Amy assured as she approached the ditch, beginning to slide down its slope again. She jogged up to the unconscious echidna, her heart sinking. “I mean, I think we are. We got ambushed by a bunch of badniks.”

_“But you beat them, right?”_

The bubblegum girl took a few seconds to catch her breath. “Yeah, yeah, I beat them.”

 _“Where’s Knuckles?”_ Rouge asked, sounding rather panicky.

“He—” Amy nudged his side lightly with the toe of her boot, fruitlessly wondering if maybe he’d stir awake yet. It didn’t elicit any reaction. “He’s right here, just—we found the Master Emerald.”

_“Holy—are you serious? That’s amazing.”_

“It is, but…” She frowned, sitting down in the dirt and pulling the echidna close to lay his head in her lap. It was hard to ignore the dark circles under his eyes, how matted his crimson fur was. “We decided to split up for a while—I took on the badniks, and he was supposed to get the M.E. out of danger. But after the battle I found him… Unconscious. And—And something’s wrong with the emerald, it’s got all these—all this red stuff on it, and… Knuckles’ hand, it’s stuck to the surface, and I just don’t know—”

_“Hey, hey, Rose, honey, calm down. Is he breathing?”_

Amy swallowed thickly. “Y-Yes.”

 _“Okay,”_ the bat said evenly. _“That’s what’s important right now. He’s alive. We’ll figure out the Master Emerald later. Give me your coordinates, and we’ll come pick you up.”_

The hedgehog tapped a button on the screen of the walkie-talkie, letting it load the GPS before reciting the string of numbers to Rouge. The agent said some things to somebody else on her end, before assuring Amy that they’d be there soon, and to just stay where she was.

She sighed, massaging Knuckles’ temples as his head rested in her lap.

They’d figure this out.

They had to.

* * *

A strange heat spread rapidly to his neck and back, and Miles’ eyes widened as he hastily thrust his hand into the side pocket of his knapsack. In a split second, the fox yanked out a small device no larger than his palm, painted black with a single cyan light blinking on the face of the object, and chucked in over in Gadget’s direction.

Rockets rained down all around them, plumes of fire and smoke groping outwards with its hungry tendrils. The device the kit threw hit the ground only a millisecond after the missiles did, and a wall of turquoise light leapt out from it, forming a large bubble and him and Gadget. Both mobians were still knocked off their feet from the mere impacts of the rockets.

“Holy—what just…?!” the wolf stammered, flipping himself onto his back. He watched in some mix of awe and horror as the flames rolled over the strange force-field, fighting feverishly to break through and burn into him.

Miles was already clambering onto his feet, the whip-form of his electric Wispon curled on the ground like a golden snake. He tossed the older male the red weapon. “We need a plan. This shield won’t last long, especially under the force of the missiles.”

Gadget bit his lip, before rising up tentatively and glancing around them. It was hard to see anything past the inferno wall of smog. The asphalt under their feet trembled every few seconds with the impact of another rocket.

“So what do we do when it breaks?”

The fox flicked his wrist, snapping his whip against the ground. “We run.” He paused to point a finger to somewhere behind Gadget. Just barely visible past the explosions, they could spot a large, dark figure only a hundred meters away. “That’s our target.”

With an incredulous scoff, the wolf threw Miles a slightly frightened look. “Wha—You, you wanna go _towards_ the giant monster thing trying to blow us up?!”

Another explosion sounded against the top of the force-field, and it thinned considerably. Their shield was fading fast. “Believe me, that’s no monster. It’s a robot.”

One last missile fell, the flames tumbling across the ground vigorously before slamming into the transparent wall and breaking past it. A blistering heat crept up the pair’s sides, and without hesitation Miles grabbed Gadget’s wrist and sprung forwards.

The scarlet mobian released a breath he wasn’t aware he’d been holding, his legs moving on autopilot as he struggled to keep up with the boy dragging him along. He noticed, oddly, that Miles was spinning his tails like some sort of propeller for supposedly extra speed. It made him start to wonder, deliriously, if any of this was even real.

Up above, more rockets fell through the air like golden raindrops. One dropped right in front of their path, and Gadget nearly screamed because oh _Chaos_ they were going to die, when the two-tailed fox threw his free arm up, his whip gliding through the air before snagging around the missile. Miles twirled around, pulling the rocket through the air with him, before yanking it in the directing of the behemoth up ahead. It sailed through the air for a few seconds before colliding into the massive silhouette, knocking it backwards.

Gadget laughed breathily, clutching the side of his head to try and process everything, but the boy genius was already grabbing his hand and pulling him along again.

The duo finally escaped the haze of dark smoke to get a better look at their adversary, but it only made the wolf’s blood run cold. Standing mere feet away from them was a towering, twenty-something foot tall mech. It’s body was egg-shaped, wielding a titanium lance and shield. Rockets continuously protruded and shot out from its chest and pauldrons, twirling haphazardly through the air.

“What the hell is that?!” Gadget cried, starting to retreat backwards.

Miles smirked challengingly, not tearing his sapphire eyes from the giant robot for a second. “He used to call it the Egg Emperor.”

“You—you _know_ what this thing is?!” the wolf blubbered. “You’ve _fought_ one before?!”

He thumbed his nose. “Years ago, under different circumstances, yeah. Just stay close, I can—”

As the kit spoke, he was caught off guard when the Egg Emperor swung its bronze lance forwards in one swift motion. The weapon itself didn’t come close to grazing them, but with the motion a shockwave of golden light surged forwards at a startling pace and knocked right into Miles. He was thrown backwards into the wall of a building.

“ _Miles!_ ”

Without hesitation, the mech proceeded to jab its sword into the road, the ground itself cresting upwards from the force. Gadget tried to leap over the wave of asphalt, but he was knocked off his feet. His Wispon skidded a couple feet away from him.

And this—this _chilling,_ raw fear seized him up, crawled down his spin and brought tears to his eyes. His vision was coming in and out of focus, but he could still see Miles, collapsed in the crater he made in the wall, he could still see his Wispon out of reach, he could still see the Egg Emperor over his shoulder, preparing a finishing blow.

No, no, they were going to die. He had to get away, he had to save Miles, he had to _run._

The wolf scrambled to his feet, sprinting forwards and swiping the crimson pistol off the ground. Not wasting another second, he ran up to the barely conscious fox, and pulled him up. Miles wavered for a moment, groaning and clutching his head, but Chaos, they didn’t have time. Gadget squeezed the boy’s wrist in a firm grip and dragged him away from the calamity in Westopolis, keeping his eyes trained on the desert in the outskirts. Warmth continued to claw at their backs, missiles surely following them, but Gadget didn’t focus on it. _He had to save them, he had to run._

They soon reached the edge of the city, the rubble beneath their feet turning to dust and sand and dead grass. The echoes of explosions grew more and more distant.

Eventually they found some foliage, and Gadget pulled Miles into it to duck behind a tree. They’d definitely lost the Egg Emperor by this point, but he was still anxious.

“Hey, hey, buddy. You with me?” he asked worriedly, shaking the fox’s shoulders as he laid him against the tree trunk.

Miles blinked slowly, eyes watering. Blotches of soot ran across his body (and Gadget’s), accompanied with scratches and bruises. There didn’t appear to be any grave injuries—except maybe a concussion.

“Shit,” the teenager bit out, pressing the heel of his palm to his forehead. He let out a low groan before looking up at Gadget in question, looking slightly disoriented. “What—Did you… Did you stop the robot?”

“Um,” the wolf dawned a sheepish look, daring a glance back over towards the skyscrapers in the distance. A flurry of flames still danced high in the air, and he could vaguely see the golden outline of the Egg Emperor in the midst of the chaos, stalking around menacingly. “… Not exactly. But we’re safe, that’s what matters.”

Miles frowned a bit at that, and Gadget almost probed him about it, when something else caught his eye and he gasped sharply.

“Oh, shoot!” the wolf breathed, searching the area around them like he was looking for something he dropped.

The fox narrowed his eyes, murmuring, “What?”

“I just—you’re bleeding,” Gadget said, finally deciding to pull off his boot and take off his sock.

Miles made a face. “Yeah, so are you, Sherlock.”

The older mobian was already bringing the white sock up to the other’s face. “No, but—you’ve got a bad cut right on the side of your head, below your ear.”

Skeptically, Miles touched two fingers to the side of his head, as his brain didn’t quite seem to be registering the pain of the injury yet. He grimaced as his fingertips became coated in a steady stream of blood, and begrudgingly allowed Gadget to tie the sock around his right ear, to apply some pressure.

“You must’ve gotten it from when you crashed into the building back there,” the wolf muttered, sitting back once the cloth was in place. “You alright? Feel woozy?”

“I’m fine, _mom,_ ” the fox replied, teasingly. The faintest smile traced his face, and surely enough it elicited a light chuckle from Gadget. It was funny—they’d only known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and yet they were already fussing over each other like—like _brothers._

Miles’ grin fell, as a sharp pang struck his chest. _Brothers._

He swallowed thickly, reeling from that thought. _Not now. Can’t think about that now. Not after—not… No._ He pulled himself up, only wobbling slightly. “Come on, we should go.”

Gadget hesitated. “Don’t you wanna rest up for just a few minutes? It’s not like we’re in a rush to be anywhere, and you’ve… sorta got blood still dripping down your face.”

 _No._ Sitting here, not doing anything—it left him to nothing but his thoughts, and he just—Chaos, he couldn’t deal with that now.

_(Six months. All his fault. Coward.)_

_(Murderer.)_

“ _No!_ ” he snapped, tensing up. Gadget recoiled a bit. Miles paused, sucked in a breath, and peeled open his eyes. In a low, dead tone, he amended his outburst with, “… Sorry, we just—we should get further away from Westopolis. The Egg Emperor could still be looking for us.”

Swallowing a knot in his throat, the scarlet canine nodded and stood up. “… Right. Where to?”

“Well…” Miles trailed off, trying to think of their options. Going back to the convenience store was a no-go, at least for a long time. They couldn’t risk getting caught again. They could try and make it over to the next big city, but that had to be hundreds of miles away, and for all they knew it was overrun with twice as many badniks. He briefly contemplated sending Gadget off to the Resistance to resume his solo act, but he didn’t even know where their base was.

“Maybe we could find a car,” Gadget suggested, seeing the fox struggle to find a solution. “With your brains—and technology—I’m sure we could hotwire one, or something.”

But cars were a rarity, nowadays, and half the time their engines were smashed in or their wheels blown off. But maybe Gadget was right, maybe they needed some sort of transportation, some sort of— _oh._

He mulled the thought over in his head, chewing the inside of his cheek and wringing his hands uneasily. Should he? It was a dangerous idea in itself—they’d have to go near one of Eggman’s bases, and for all he knew they’d get spotted… But if they succeeded, if they found it, then they could travel virtually anywhere.

(And sure, there was also the prospect of that location bringing up _certain,_ revolting memories, but he elected to suppress those thoughts for the time being.)

“Come on,” Miles finally said, beginning his trek through the flatlands. “I know where to go.”

Gadget eyed him curiously for a moment, before jogging up to the teenager to walk beside him. “May I ask where that is, exactly?”

The fox sighed, eyeing the silhouette of a large building off on the horizon, just barely visible. “It’s a junkyard. I left something there a few months ago that might be able to help us.”

He just hoped it wouldn’t get them killed, too.

* * *

The days blurred together in an endless torrent of misery, and he wanted nothing more than for it to end. Shadow was _tired._ The constant cycle of getting visits from his captors, only to be taunted and sliced open, followed with hours of isolation where he was left to tend to his own, deteriorating thoughts, was so _tedious,_ so _sickening,_ that he could barely think anymore.

And in truth, the long periods of silence and seclusion were almost a comfort. At the very least, they were a relief from the torture that Infinite wrought when he was present.

He thought about Sonic a lot. Had dreams, hallucinations, bouts of reminiscing about him. Sometimes he’d be underneath a willow tree in the middle of the night, gazing into emerald eyes that seemed to light up the world, that seemed ten times brighter than any star twinkling above them. Sometimes he’d be stuck in this damn chair, the handcuffs chafing his wrists, as he watched Sonic receive the torture he already was, tenfold. Sometimes they’d be in bed together, simply resting in each other’s arms on their honeymoon, celebrating their marriage.

But always, _always,_ they were lies. He’d always blink open his eyes again to the same dark, empty cell.

The sedatives chugging through his system made Shadow feel sluggish and woozy, and time seemed to constantly flip between fleeting away, and hardly moving. It made him wonder if he was going to die soon, locked away in this pathetic cell where nobody would ever hear of him again. And he honestly wasn’t sure what was worse: dying now, forgotten from the world, or later, having to endure possibly an eternity more of suffering.

But Shadow knew, regardless, that he couldn’t live like this. Not without Sonic, without his friends, without his freedom. Just being stuck in this chair was a hell in itself, his hands bound and thoughts muddled. He could hardly think straight, he could hardly function.

He wondered, for a while, how long it was going to take for the drugs to kill him. He wondered if they’d kill him at all.

And if they did, he wondered if, maybe then, he’d get to see Sonic again.


End file.
